Harry Potter and the Struggles of Life
by Piggwidgeon
Summary: Harry struggles with life three years after the Battle at Hogwarts, when he has become an Auror. All around him, his relationships are changing - his friendships, his infatuations, his rivalries. Rated T for adult themes - nothing explicit.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own the HP property, and I thank Rowling for this wonderful sandbox to play in. **

3

Harry rubbed the water out of his hair. He felt good, as if he was invincible, and by many standards he was. After three arduous years of training, he had finally achieved auror status. Pulling a shirt over his head, he couldn't help but smile. Now the only thing he desired was bed – his warm, soft bed. His stomach grumbled. His bed could wait.

He heard some commotion downstairs as he descended to the first floor of the Burrow. No one should have been up at that hour – Ginny was still in France training with the Cannons, Ron and Hermione had just moved out, and Teddy was still at his grandmother's. He decided it didn't matter, so long as he could get a sandwich or something, he was fine with it.

At first, he didn't see anyone. All the lights were off. Someone was fumbling around with some pots. He could see their silhouette against the moonlight, but their features were obscured. The pots clashed to the ground, a few glasses shattered, and an angry stream of curses filled the room.

"Great, now you've woken up the whole house. Nice going. I thought you wanted to keep your presence unknown for a while."

"Shut up, Ron. It isn't, like you can make a cake. You know that's the only reason why I'm here. Coach is going to make me run a marathon when I get back."

"Shut up, it isn't helping any.'"

"Just pick up the pans."

"Ginny?" Harry said loudly.

"Harry? I thought you'd be in bed." All the lights flickered on. Ron and Ginny were standing in the kitchen, Ron covered in flour, Ginny standing on a pile of broken glass.

His heart skipped a beat. She was really here. Ginny was really here. He hadn't seen her in almost half a year, and she was right in front of him, as beautiful as ever. He walked towards her, his muscles not rested enough after his test this afternoon to run. Before he even took two steps, Ginny was up against him, her arms squeezing the air out of him.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, returning the embrace.

"Ron told me he was making a cake, and I thought it better I come to oversee it. I don't want him to poison anyone."

"Well, thank you."

"I've missed you so much," Ginny whispered, resting her head on his chest.

"Me too." Harry played with her hair a little. She had cut it short, probably for convenience. He didn't like it that much, but most quidditch players had short hair, so he understood.

"What are you up for? Didn't you have your final test today?"

"I'm looking for food."

"Sit down; I'll make you a sandwich." Ginny left him standing alone and went

into the kitchen. She waved her wand and all the stuff on the floor found its way back to where it belonged.

"So what do you think of her hair?" Ron asked, rubbing his sister's head.

"Stop it, Ron." Ginny fumbled through the cabinets, looking for food.

"When did you get it done?" Harry said, trying to avoid the question.

"Yesterday, on coach's orders. I'm not used to it yet," Ginny said. "He wants everyone to look the same. Here's your sandwich. I need to go to bed. Ron, don't burn down the house."

"Goodnight," Harry said, taking the sandwich. Ginny ruffled Harry's hair and went upstairs.

"Seriously," Ron said, "what do you think of her hair?"

"I wish I had gotten some warning, but it isn't too bad. I'll get used to it."

"I think it's terrible." Ron said down across from Harry. "I don't know what compelled her to do it. Tragic, really."

"Stop being so hard on her."

"Whatever. I need to get back home; Hermione wanted me back an hour ago." He quickly disapparated. Harry inhaled the rest of his sandwich and went to bed.

3

"Harry!" Teddy shouted, jumping up and down on Harry's bed. "Get up, Harry!"

"I don't want to, Teddy," Harry mumbled. His body ached, as if he had been crushed by a truck.

"Come on, Harry!" The boy had climbed on top of Harry and was sitting on his stomach. "They wait you!"

"That's wrong, it is; they wait for you, Harry. Repeat it."

"They wait for you!" He started bouncing up and down again.

"Go get my glasses."

"Where?" Teddy slid off the bed.

"On the table."

Harry sat up and put his feet on the floor. He could see the turquoise blur rummaging through his stuff. The boy gave out a squeal of delight and climbed to Harry's knees. He put the glasses on Harry's face, nearly poking his eye out.

"Thanks, Teddy."

"Come on!" Teddy grabbed Harry's pant leg and pulled on it. He was adorable when he tried to boss Harry around. "Come on!"

"Alright, alright." Harry hauled himself off the bed and lifted up Teddy. Together, they went down the stairs.

"Oh, Harry, you're finally awake?" Mrs. Weasley greeted.

"Courtesy of Teddy," Harry grumbled. Teddy grinned and giggled.

"Well, sit down and enjoy your breakfast. The whole family is coming over later to celebrate," Mrs. Weasley said. "Arthur told me you passed with the best score since Moody."

"I don't believe that for a second," Ginny said, putting a large plate of French toast, potatoes, and sausage in front of Harry.

"I can't eat all that," Harry said.

"I help!" Teddy said, climbing into the chair next to Harry and stealing a sausage.

"It's I will help."

"I will help!" Teddy said obediently, his mouth full of sausage.

"Ginny, you need to eat something," Mrs. Weasley said.

"I've already eaten," Ginny replied.

"You need to eat more. They don't feed you enough in France."

"They feed us fine in France, mum." Ginny sounded exasperated. They must have gone through this earlier, too.

"Look at you! Go eat something! And your hair is atrocious."

"I'm going running," Ginny said, going upstairs.

"Me too," Harry said.

"You need to eat," Mrs. Weasley said.

"I'm not a breakfast person," Harry said.

"I eat your food?" Teddy asked.

"Sure."

Harry was ready to go in one minute. He waited for Ginny in the front yard.

"You won't be able to keep up with me," Ginny said, stretching her arms.

"Are you sure?" Harry grinned, staring at her.

"Yep. You're still sore from yesterday. I had a light practice yesterday. I'll do you a favor and go easy."

She started jogging and Harry followed. He hated that she knew what she was talking about. Almost immediately, he felt as if his calf was going to tear in two. He pushed on, not wanting to disappoint Ginny. She ran for awhile along the road, but quickly diverged into the forest. They ran for thirty minutes before stopping. Harry couldn't breath. He doubled up against a tree and gasped for breath. Ginny stood straight, her breathing heavy but manageable.

"It's not my fault that I'm thin," Ginny said suddenly.

"I know." Ginny had become all muscle since she started playing professional quidditch. "You have the Weasley genes."

"Then why doesn't my mother understand that?" Her face was red.

"She's just worried about you."

Ginny ran her hands through her hair.

"I hate this hair. I hate being away from home all the time. I hate being away from you, Harry." She sat down next to Harry on the ground. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"You're getting tired of quidditch?"

The birds stopped chirping.

"I can't get out of the contract. I have to ride it out. Two more years. I'm not sure I can do it."

"Is there anything you can do if you aren't playing quidditch?"

"I was thinking of getting a job at St. Mungo's when this is all over."

"That would be interesting." Harry stared into the trees, trying to picture Ginny as one of the healers. He had seen some of the inflictions some of the aurors get on the job; he wasn't sure she had the stomach for it. He wasn't about to say anything now, not when she's already upset. Some other time, maybe.

"I'm going to start volunteering there on Saturdays when the team comes back home."

"That's good; find out if you're really cut out for it."

"What are you saying?"

"Well, what department?"

"Memory modification."

"Oh, never mind. I just wasn't sure if you had the stomach to deal with some of the hexes and curses that come through there."

"Of course I do. I went through the elementary training program the first month out of school, and they put me in memory modification or curse treatment; I could choose."

"A lot has happened in two years, though."

"Not enough to change who I am."

"Enough to steer you away from quidditch."

"I'm getting bored, Harry. It doesn't challenge me anymore. You don't understand; an auror always has to be on your toes. But with quidditch, it's the same thing day in and day out. No, I'm finished with it when the contract is up. Besides, I've already broken all the club records."

"Yeah; I've heard that; youngest person to ever start a game and youngest person ever to have all the chaser records for your team. Impressive."

"We'd better get back; I don't want to miss Bill and Fleur."


	2. Chapter 2

Ginny was speechless when she saw Vicky and how big she had gotten in six short months. She was aghast when she learned Fleur was pregnant again, due in November. She was thrilled to see Percy, Audrey, George, and Angelina again. Harry couldn't help but grin every time Ginny fawned over Vicky or Teddy. Mrs. Weasley started dropping hints about grandchildren about three minutes into the evening, and didn't even stop when Luna and Neville arrived nor when Ron and Hermione finally showed up. She only stopped when Audrey managed to turn the conversation from children to quiditch.

Harry couldn't even express his gratitude for the woman. She always knew what everyone in the room was thinking and could pick up on clues that usually only well acquainted people could pick up on. Harry could see Hermione becoming progressively more uncomfortable as the grandchildren conversation progressed, and her immediate relief when Audrey diverted the conversation.

"Our first game is against the Harpies," Ginny explained. "We got a new keeper – O'Neil – and I think he'll be able to hold off most of their offense. Mac is going to have a problem beating the seeker, but Jeremy and Sholtz will support him from behind the bludgers. I think we'll win, but I'm a biased party."

"Since when have the Cannons won anything?" Bill teased. "Even with the girl wonder on their team? Nothing has changed."

Ron took the challenge and started rattling off statistics.

"So, Hermione," Ginny said, "when is your test?"

"Not for another year. Those studying disguise have a longer road than those studying tracking."

"I have a cousin that spent seven years studying disguise," Audrey said. "He could never quite transfigure right."

"The demands are rigorous on both branches," Harry said to finish the conversation.

"Yeah; just look at you, Harry. You look like someone threw you in a blender and put it on high," George said.

"No, that's just because Ginny took me out running today. I could hardly keep up."

"That's what happens when you go running with the best quidditch player of all time," Ron said.

"I'm not the best," Ginny refuted.

"If you say so," Percy muttered.

"I'm going to go get some fresh air," Hermione said quietly.

"I'll go, too," Ginny said. Hermione, Ginny, and Luna all went out the back door and started walking around.

"Is Hermione alright?" Harry said to Ron softly.

"She's just been getting sick in the afternoon lately. She said they screened her for all sorts of stuff at the department, but nothing came up, so I'm assuming she's fine."

"Are there any other symptoms?"

"She's been tired a lot, but she's been told that that's normal in training to sometimes just be really tired."

"Yeah; it is," Harry said.

"Is she pregnant?" Fleur asked.

"I…I don't think so," Ron replied. He looked extremely confused.

"You should find out for sure," Angelina said. "Because if that's the case, she needs to ease off her training."

"I…I don't know," Ron stared out the window at Hermione. The three women were laughing about something. "If…if she was…then that would be amazing…but I don't want to get her hopes up…"

"You need to get her tested, Ron," Harry said. "The stuff she does training to be an auror can kill her. The simplest task can kill an unborn baby. Especially because most of what she does involves changing her body. One wrong maneuver and it's all over. She needs to be aware of it."

The clock ticked loudly in their ears.

"Mama! Mama!" Vicky tottered into the room, a huge smile on her face.

"Since when can she walk?" Audrey asked. "Last time I saw her, she clung to the furniture like a gecko."

"A week ago; I went on a business trip, came back, and she walked right up to me. I spent three days making sure I didn't miss anything in protecting the house," Bill said.

"Did you?"

"A cabinet of chemicals," Fleur said, picking Vicky up.

"It wasn't chemicals. It was just some potion ingredients."

Hermione, Luna, and Ginny came back into the house and resumed their seats, each one grinning, but silent.

"Ginny, why are you wearing long sleeves? It's rather warm out," Neville said ignorantly.

"Oh," she said, "well…I like long sleeves better than short ones."

"Why don't you go change into something more comfortable?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"I am comfortable. Besides, there is no point in me changing now; I need to leave in ten minutes so I'm not late for practice." She crossed her arms and stared at the floor. Harry put his arm around her. She didn't look up at him.

"Dinner's ready," Mrs. Weasley said, flicking her wand at the table. Massive amounts of food appeared before their eyes.

"I'd better leave now," Ginny said. "Congratulations Harry. Eat a piece of cake for me."

"Try not to be so down, ok?"

"Sure." Ginny disapparated. Harry stared at where she had been seconds before with an overwhelming sense of loss. Something had happened to her and he had missed it.

3

Harry stared at Hermione across the table. She was almost asleep, a mug of coffee in front of her. She wiped exhaustion from her eyes and took a sip of coffee. Her face was pale, as if she was going to vomit, but she held it back. Audrey sat next to Hermione. Ron paced back and forth. No one said a word, but listened to the rapid ticking of the timer. Two minutes – that's how long it would take to determine Ron and Hermione's future.

"Whatever this says," Ron said. "No matter what it says, I'll love you the same." He put his hands on Hermione's shoulders and stared at the little clock. Harry watched his good friends, anxious as much as they. This would change their friendship as much as it changed their marriage. He and Ginny weren't even considering marriage yet, never mind children. It would put them on two different playing fields.

The timer rang.

Ron bounded into the bathroom. He stayed there for an entire minute. Harry watched Hermione. She was nervous, biting her lower lip and staring at a fixed point. Audrey put her had on Hermione's back, offering support.

Ron shouted, whooped for joy in the bathroom. He ran out and pulled Hermione from her chair.

"We're going to have a baby!" he shouted. Hermione smiled and laughed. She tightly wound her arms around Ron and wouldn't let go.

"Congratulations," Audrey said when they let each other go. She hugged Hermione.

"So, Ron's going to be a father, eh?" Harry said jokingly. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

"It's a good enough idea," Ron said, his voice still trembling with excitement. "Oh, merlin, there's so much we need to do, Hermione. We need to buy furniture, and baby-proof the house, and buy it clothes and bottles and diapers and turn the guest room into a nursery…How are we going to do it? And what are we going to name him? Is it even a boy? How can we tell? If we can't tell what it is, how can we do the nursery?"

"Slow down, Ron," Audrey said, laughing at his enthusiasm. "You don't need to do anything yet. You need to go to the doctor and legitimize the test. He'll tell you what to do from there, ok?"

"I'll go send an owl to Ian Gill, then," Ron said, getting up from the table and going into another room.

"I need to send owls, too," Hermione said.

"Wait until after your doctor confirms it," Audrey said, "or else you might need to inform everyone that you really aren't."

Hermione sat back down but couldn't stop smiling.

"We have an appointment tomorrow night at five o'clock," Ron said, coming back into the room. He sat next to Hermione and held her hand.

"Let me make us some dinner," Audrey said, getting up and going into the kitchen. She made a marvelous meal to celebrate the conception of the third Weasley grandchild.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry's first month on the job was not what he anticipated it would be. There was no tracking. No magic. No excitement. He sat at a desk and did paperwork. And not interesting paper work. He had to read through the reports from other aurors and make sure the correct boxes were filled in, enough information given, and all questions answered. It was arduous. All of them were filled out perfectly except for one, and that one took three seconds to fix. It was boring. It was treacherous. It was terrible.

It wasn't until his fifth week on the job he actually got to do something. Nick took three new aurors – Harry, Paul, and Joanie, out to track down a young man who was breaking misuse of muggle artifacts laws. At first, Harry thought it would be exhilarating; after a month, he would finally be doing something productive. But when they arrived, it was a bit different than he expected.

"The city is split into four quarters. Search your area. Harry, you have four. Joanie, three, and Paul two. I'm taking one. If you don't know what divides the city, review your map. Don't come back to the ministry until you've found him. If someone else finds him, you'll be alerted."

"Yes, sir," the three of them said.

"Disperse."

The three disapparated to their respective areas.

Harry was already wearing muggle clothes. He slipped into an alley and did a quick spell on his glasses to allow him to see farther away and pick up on magical trails. Like this, it would be easy to see any amateur wizard running through the streets of London. In fact, he had created the spell himself and his vision would alert him of who he was looking for immediately. Like a muggle, he walked through the streets. He looked around, wondering where he would find a magical trail, or if he would have one.

He turned onto one of the less occupied streets and found the trail – a thin line of orange meandering across the street and into an unoccupied building. He followed it. The door was unlocked. The trail went up the stairs. He went up the stairs. The trail went to the right down the hall. He went to the right down the hall. He heard nothing – no breathing, no movement, no anything. He began to question himself; was this really the way?

The trail went under a locked door. He checked around him to make sure there were no muggles around and flicked his wand out to open it. Inside was a man, his face smooshed against a pillow, sleeping. Harry stared at him for a few minutes. His wand hung haphazardly out of his pocket. His face was in need of a good shave. His clothes needed to be washed. It was him.

Harry paralyzed him without a word. The man woke up immediately, his eyes wide and petrified. He wanted to say something, expel his innocence, probably.

"I'm taking you back to the ministry," Harry said. Harry wrapped his arms around the man and disapparated.

He apparated into the auror's office.

"This isn't where you're supposed to bring them," one woman said, coming from behind her desk. She was older, probably around thirty, and quickly commandeered the situation. "Harry Potter, right?"

"Yes ma'am," he said.

"Come with me; I'll show you where to put them next time."

Harry followed the woman down the back stairs into a dungeon. She fastened him in a cell and relieved the paralyzing spell from him.

"Fill this out," she said, giving him a packet of papers. "It's your paper work."

He worked on the packet for a week.


	4. Chapter 4

3

Harry made sure he was home early. Ginny was supposed to be coming home and he wanted to make sure everything was right for her. Mrs. Weasley had gotten the family together again to welcome her home, and everyone was at the Burrow by four o'clock in the afternoon. She was supposed to come in at five. Everyone crowded around the clock, waiting.

Five o'clock came and went. So did quarter and half past.

"This isn't like her," Mrs. Weasley said. "I wonder if something happened."

"She would tell us if something did," Mr. Weasley said.

It didn't seem right to Harry, either. She was not the person he would peg to be late. She knows her family is close. She knows they'll probably have a party for her. She knows they know she's never late. Why's she late now? Percy, Bill, and Ron all started pacing back and forth. They knew this wasn't like her. No one said anything. Harry glanced at the Weasley clock. It said Ginny was traveling. It had been like that since four.

A loud crack, a yell and a cry from Vicky, and Ginny was in the room. She looked relieved to be home. She took a few steps to the stairs and threw her bags halfway up them and then turned to her family.

"Hey guys," she said, grinning. "Sorry I'm late. They wouldn't let me apparate across the English channel."

"Well, sit down," Mrs. Weasley said, pushing her daughter into a chair. "And eat

something." Harry passed her a plate of sandwiches.

"I'm not hungry," she said.

"Ginny, you've traveled for almost two hours. You need to eat something."

"They gave us food on the ferry."

"That was silly of you. You knew I would have something for you."

"Mum, really, I'm more exhausted than I was after my first week in France. Please. All I want to do is sit here and later go to bed."

"Ok," Mrs. Weasley said. "If anyone else wants to eat something, now's the time."

There was a period of commotion where everyone got up and got some food, except for Hermione and Ginny.

"Hermione," Ron said in response to this, "you really should eat something."

"I can't," she said.

"You need to eat something."

"I can barely breathe in the odor of the food without wanting to vomit. I can't imagine eating it."

"What if I find you something else?"

"Ron! No, just stop. I'm not hungry. If anything, I'm going to vomit, so stop talking to me."

Teddy ran around the room for a few minutes with a tomato stuck to his shirt before Fleur plucked it off. He started playing with Vicky and they occupied themselves with blocks.

"So why were you really late?" Harry whispered to Ginny. Ginny looked at him, alarmed, but slowly relaxed.

"I'll tell you later," she said, "when we're alone. I don't want many people to know." Harry nodded and put his arm around Ginny. She stiffened at his touch, but slowly relaxed.

"So how are you, Ginny?" Audrey asked. Harry stared at her; had she picked up on the cues already?

"I'm just tired," Ginny said.

"Maybe you should go to bed and we'll question you later."

"Yes, that might be a good idea," Mrs. Weasley said. "You seem…exhausted."

"I think I'll take you up on it," Ginny said, forcing a smile.

"I'll help you with your things," Harry said, following Ginny. He picked up her backs and brought them to her room. The two of them entered.

Ginny sat down on the edge of her bed and buried her face in her hands. Harry didn't know what caused this immediate change in demeanor. He didn't understand it. He didn't know how to handle it.

"I was late because I had to settle a conflict," she said slowly, her words muffled by her hands. She was carefully choosing each word, trying to tell him without hurting him.

"What conflict?" He put a hand on her knee and stiffened again.

"Please…please don't touch me," she said, her breathing tremulous. Harry removed his hand and she eased up. She lifted her head and looked at him.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, but something in him resisted.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said, her face contorting with anguish. "I'm sorry." Tears began to trickle from her eyes. Her breathing became halting and unsteady. She started sobbing.

"Look, Ginny," Harry said. "Ginny, I swear, whatever it is, whatever happened, it won't change anything."

"No….no you're wrong, Harry." She looked at him, her face wet and her eyes tortured. "This changes everything."

"What happened, Ginny?"

"Last…last night…the team….and…and…oh, Merlin, Harry. I'm so sorry." She said between sobs. "Please…please forgive me."

"Of course. Of course I will. But tell me what happened. What are you sorry for, Ginny?"

"Last….last night….I was drugged….and…and I was raped." She doubled over, her face buried in her hands. "I'm sorry, Harry!" She sobbed even harder, her tears dripping off her face and down her neck.

Harry stared at her, shocked. Ginny? Raped? How? Why? When? By who? His voice was caught in his throat. His mind was spinning but getting no where. What should he say to her? What could he say?

"Do you want to tell anyone else right now?" Harry asked gently, looking at her. It broke his heart to see her like this. And he didn't know what to do.

"I…I don't…If…if Hermione's still here…"

"Ok, I'll be right back." Harry flew down the stairs and looked in the sitting room. Fleur and Bill had left with Vicky, but Hermione was still there – half asleep, but still there.

"Hermione," Harry said. "Can I talk with you for a minute?"

Nodding, Hermione got up and walked over to him.

"What is it? It's Ginny, isn't it?"

"She wants to talk with you."

"Ok."

Hermione went up the stairs to Ginny's room. Harry watched, helpless, and hoped Hermione could help her.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry stared at the paperwork piled on his desk. He still hadn't quite figured out what Nick's reaction was to the event the other day. Nick hadn't been around, but neither had Joanie and Paul.

"Harry Potter?" a man said, coming up to his desk.

"Yes?" Harry looked up at him; he was clearly an auror, and a seasoned one at that. His hair was messy, his eyes hardened, and had several scars running up and down his arms.

"You're with me and my crew. Pay attention and don't get in the way. Let's go." The rough man turned and walked away. Harry hurried after him.

"Who are you?" Harry asked.

"Timothy Bresnen."

"Where are we going?"

"On a mission. Be quiet. We need to hook up with the rest of them." Timothy and Harry stood in the hallway, waiting. Three others emerged from various rooms – a tall woman with dark hair, a short man with blond hair, and another woman with blond hair. They were introduced as Max, Andy, and Porter.

"Come into the conference room." The five of them entered a room with a large white screen on one end. They sat down in folding chairs and stared at the screen. Images started to appear. Some of them were of men. Some of them were of women. Some were of objects. Others were of locations.

"All of these are crucial to the current investigation of the covert operations of the streets of London. It's rumored that a cell of dark wizards is beginning to congregate in London. We don't know where. We don't know their goals. We don't know what they want. We need you to figure it out. Max, Andy, and Porter are all disguise artists. Harry and Bresnen are trackers. You leave in three days, on Friday. You will have no contact with home during this mission. It will last two weeks. You won't be able to contact us. George Weasley is going to be your only means of communication," Nicolas said, standing at the front of the room. The slides changed and George was grinning at them. "He's the owner of the Diagon Alley joke shop. You are not to approach him as you. In other words, Potter, Bresnen, you aren't allowed to talk to him. The other three will relay information to him. Any questions?"

"Why am I here?" Harry asked.

"You proved to be the best tracker out of the group that went the other day. You were back within an hour. The others are still wandering the streets of London."

"How good is the kid?" Andy asked.

"Good."

"As good as Bresnen?" Porter said.

"He will be."

"So you put him with the best to learn from the best, eh?" Max suggested, brushing her hair out of her face.

"You got it."

"Anything else? No? Alright, meet back here on Friday. Make sure everyone knows. Make sure no one goes looking for you. That will just complicate things. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," the team agreed.

"You're dismissed." The five of them left and went their own ways.

How was he going to tell Ginny? She had two weeks before quidditch started again, and he would only be there for three of them. He felt like a jerk, especially after what she'd been through.

3

"I've been assigned to a mission," Harry said at dinner.

"Where to?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"I can't give specifics. It's for two weeks, though. We leave Friday."

"Wow, they're really getting you involved fast, huh?" Mr. Weasley said.

Harry mumbled in agreement, avoiding eye contact with Ginny. He could feel her staring at him.

"Is…is it going to be dangerous?" Ginny asked, her voice soft. Harry looked up at her. She was staring at her plate. He had never known her to be this vulnerable before. Struggling for an answer, he ate some chicken.

"I don't know," he said. "This is my first assignment, so it can't be terribly dangerous."

"But you're working with Timothy Bresnen, aren't you?" Mr. Weasley said. "He's a seasoned auror. The only assignments he gets are serious ones."

Ginny shifted uncomfortably across the table.

"I'll be fine, working with such experienced aurors. Nothing can happen to me," Harry said.

"Ginny, eat something; you barely ate," Mrs. Weasley said.

"I'm not hungry," Ginny replied.

"You haven't eaten all day."

"I'm fine."

"No you aren't."

"Do I look like a child?" She was getting angry; Harry could see it. Her ears were starting to get red – just like Ron's – and her body was tense. Mrs. Weasley didn't say anything else.

"Are you leaving tomorrow?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Friday."

"Do you need to go in until then?"

"No."

"So you have three days?" Ginny asked with the same tone as before. Harry nodded his head.

"Do you want to go to Diagon Alley tomorrow?" Harry asked.

"Yeah; I guess so," Ginny replied. Harry gritted his teeth. Her lack of enthusiasm was getting to him. She shouldn't be like this. She shouldn't be acting like this. This wasn't Ginny. Harry bowed his head to his plate.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione joined Ginny and Harry in Diagon Alley the next day. It was nice out, the sun burning away many ill feelings. Hermione didn't feel as sick as usual, and even Ginny seemed to regain some of her old personality. Hermione got some new shirts for Ron, a few books, and some potions ingredients. Harry bought a handful of equipment and some more parchment. They got ice cream and spent some time in the joke shop.

"Ginny," Harry said, "Do you need anything?"

"Err…Just some broomstick wax…but I can get that later," she said.

"Why not get it now?" Harry stopped outside of the quidditch shop. Ginny stared at the door for a minute. "I mean, we're already hear."

"Harry!" Hermione hissed.

"No, he's right, Hermione," Ginny said. Shrugging, she went into the store.

"What brand do you like?" Harry said, going to the broom care section.

"Aero," Ginny said.

Harry looked through the cans upon cans of wax. He had never heard of Aero Wax. Maybe it was only available through the teams. That would explain why she wanted to wait.

"Do you know what the packaging looks like?"

There was no reply.

"Ginny?" He looked around. He couldn't see her. He walked around a bit. Ginny and Hermione were talking about something in the corner, their heads bowed over a book.

"Ginny?"

"Mmm?" She looked tortured.

"What kind of packaging is it in?"

"Orange."

"Ok."

Harry went back to the aisle. Why did she look like that? He was tempted to look back at her, but decided the best thing to do was to find the wax and get out of here. He found it, finally. It was in a triangular tin can on the bottom shelf in the back. It was cheap, too. He didn't know why, with all the resources at her disposal, she would choose this wax. He paid for it and found the pair where he had met them before.

"Are you ready to go?"

Ginny looked up at him, tears welling up behind her eyes.

"It'll be fine, Ginny," Hermione whispered, wrapping her arm around her. Ginny nodded and left. They went back to the Burrow and Hermione accosted Harry.

"What did you think you were doing?" she hissed.

"She needed wax."

"Are you blind? You need to pay more attention. Every time we passed the quidditch shop, she became instantly uncomfortable. Merlin, Harry!" Hermione put her hand to her head and closed her eyes. A look of anguish flashed across her face.

"Are you ok?" Harry asked.

"No, I'm not," Hermione said.

"Here, sit down."

"I just feel sick, Harry."

"Do you want a bucket?"

"No, I don't."

"So you think the trip was a waste?"

"No, not at all. It was good to get her out. It's a pity you won't be here for the next couple of weeks, though."

"I wish I didn't have to go. I really do."

"Just bring the invisibility cloak."

"Yeah."

Hermione reached out and grabbed Harry's arm.

"Maybe I do need to sit down." Harry helped her to a seat.

"What do you need? A glass of water?"

"Please," she said. She sipped the glass and looked at Harry, her anxiety clearly written across her face.

"You need to worry about yourself," Harry said.

"And Ginny."

"But first yourself."

"Harry, you don't understand. I don't expect you to understand. You're going away for two weeks. Luna is in Russia for the year. I'm her only close friend that's around right now. She needs support."

"I just don't want you to be under too much stress. If you lose the baby…I know

Ron and you will both be crushed…"

"Harry, it isn't going to happen. I'm a healthy young woman. There is no reason for something bad to happen."

"You just almost passed out, and you haven't felt well the entire time you've been pregnant."

"Relax, Harry, all that's normal. You need to focus on your mission. Don't worry about me or Ron or Ginny. Just worry about how your mission is going to go."

"If you insist."

"I do."

3

"So why do you like Aero wax?" Harry asked.

"Knight to E 7." Ginny watched while her piece moved. "It's old school. They don't make it like that anymore.

"Queen to E 7," Harry said. "I dunno. Tack's is pretty good."

"But Tack leaves a residue on your hands. Aero just comes off with water. Rook to E 7."

"Damn it!"

"Checkmate."

"I hate chess," Harry groaned, leaning back on the couch. Ginny grinned and leaned back in her chair.

"What do you want to do?" Ginny asked.

"Do you want to play quidditch?"

"Not really."

"That's one thing I hate about you being a professional quidditch player, Gin; you never want to play recreationally."

"Yeah? You try playing quidditch eight hours a day every day for two years and see how you like it." Her ears were beginning to get red. Harry didn't talk about quidditch again.

"You want to go for a walk?"

"I don't know."

"Want to see what Hermione's up to?"

"Is she out of work?"

"She can't do her auror training while she's pregnant. It's too risky."

"Do you know if she's doing anything today?"

"I think she said she was sleeping."

"It's still early; we should probably give her a few more hours. She looked like she was going to collapse a couple of times yesterday."

"Really?"

"Yeah; she didn't look too good."

"Well….do you want to bake something?"

"Does mum still keep the flour in the jar?" Harry shrugged; he didn't step foot in the kitchen – that was Mrs. Weasley's space. Ginny got up from the chair and nimbly jumped into the kitchen. She flung all sorts of cabinets open, drawing out ingredients when she found it.

"Come on, Harry, do you want to help or not?"

He thought about it for a moment. Ginny was an excellent cook, even going so far as to rival her mother. He was pretty sure he would just mess it up.

"Won't I screw it up for you?"

"I'll just fix it."

Acknowledging the fact, he slid into the kitchen. He stood to the side, waiting for an order. Ginny flicked her wand around, measuring ingredients and heating things up.

"Stir the bowl with the flour and stuff in it," Ginny said. Harry took the spoon from her and bent over the bowl, carefully mixing things. She dumped some more stuff in there, carefully avoiding contact with Harry, and continued measuring ingredients. He watched her, amazed at her grace and movement. There was just something about the way she worked that captivated him, something that caught his attention.

"You're gorgeous," Harry whispered to her when she dumped more ingredients in the bowl. Ginny looked at him as if he was crazy. "Really, you are. I love the way your hair has grown in. It's adorable." She continued to work, but with less zeal than before. Her hand brushed across his and she pulled away, startled.

"Harry," she said quietly. "I need some time to work through some stuff without worrying about a relationship."

Harry looked at her for a moment, alarmed by the pain in her face.

"That's fine," he said. "I'll be here when you're ready."

"I don't deserve you," Ginny muttered, measuring some butter.

"No, it's the other way around. You're the kindest, most athletic, most beautiful woman I know. I am not worthy of you."

"Harry…" Tears started welling up behind her eyes. "I…I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"There's no need, Gin. Really, there isn't. It wasn't your fault."

Ginny turned away from him for a minute, drew a shuddering breath, and returned to measuring ingredients.

"Just pour that there in a pan," Ginny said, motioning to the bowl.

"Which pan?" Harry asked, looking around the kitchen. Ginny went into one of the low cabinets and pulled out two circular pans.

"Half in one, half in the other," she said, putting them on the counter. Harry followed directions.

"Umm…put them in the oven, will you?"

Harry followed directions.

"What now?"

"We make the frosting," Ginny said, flicking her wand around the kitchen.

"That does not sound like a good idea," Harry said. "Last time I made frosting with Hermione, we somehow got it on the ceiling."

"That's because it was Hermione. She can't bake a cake even if I'm watching over her. I can't figure out how they're surviving outside of the Burrow; neither of them can cook. To be honest, I'm worried about what she's eating, or even if she's eating."

"Well, she's been sick."

"All the more reason for her to eat something of good nutritional value. Besides, I found a tonic that would probably help her with nausea."

"We'll go later, then."

3

Hermione was vomiting in their toilet when Harry and Ginny arrived at the apartment. Ginny quickly went to check on her and Harry put the cake on the table. A stack of letters, more than half of them from the ministry, and a couple from Gringotts were strewn over its surface. Harry was tempted to look through the letters – none of them were sealed – but he decided against it; he would just ask Hermione about it.

Ginny and Hermione came out of the bathroom together. Hermione looked like she had been up all night, and Ginny laid her down on the couch, gave her some tonic, and returned to the kitchen.

"What are you guys doing here?" Hermione asked, sprawled on the couch.

"Just wondering what you're up to," Harry replied.

"That's what he's here for. I'm here to cook. Do you have any food around, or do I need to go shopping?"

"Oh, Ginny, you don't have to…"

"It isn't a matter of what I have to do," Ginny said, rummaging through the cabinets, "but what I need to do. If I don't do this, you're going to die."

"No I'm not."

"How much weight have you lost?"

Crookshanks meowed in the other room.

"That's what I thought," Ginny said. "You don't have any food."

"Ginny…please…don't do this."

"Hermione, you need help. You can't cook. Ron can't cook. I'm going to do this whether you want me to or not. I'm making you meals for the week. Don't let Ron eat them all at once."

Ginny disapparated.

"Why are you letting her do this?"

"To get her out of the Burrow."

"I'm going to kill you, Harry."

"I don't think you are; do you want some cake?"

"No."

"Are you still feeling sick?"

"Yes."

Harry sat down on the love seat across from Hermione.

"So what have you been doing?" Harry asked, playing with Ron's model of a quidditch pitch.

"Working for the ministry from home," she replied.

"Is that what all those letters on the table are of?"

Hermione looked at him, her eyes wide.

"No…no they aren't," she said.

Crookshanks jumped on top of Hermione.

"Do you mind me asking what they are of?"

"The formal release papers from the auror's office. They released me from my training position."

"Permanently?"

Hermione nodded and started petting Crookshanks.

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "I know you've wanted to be an auror for a long time…"

"It's fine, Harry. I…I wouldn't have time for it anyway, not with a baby on the way." She gave a feeble grin and stared at the ceiling.

"What about the letters from Gringotts?"

"Did you read them?" she asked. Her voice trembled.

"No."

"Hogwarts has banned Hogsmeade visits because of the upcoming auror investigation of Hogsmeade. The joke shop has greatly suffered. We're…having some difficulties financially."

"Is George, too?"

"Angelina has a good job, so they're fine."

"But you're working for a fraction of what she's making."

Hermione nodded her head.

"If I was still working for the auror's department…then we wouldn't be having any trouble…"

"Have you asked Ginny? I'm sure she has money to spare."

"We can't. It's not that bad yet."

"You don't have any food in your house."

"Only because I've felt too sick to go out in the past couple of days. Besides, Ron is initiating a new mail-order program for Hogwarts students. In a few months, we'll be all set."

"But until then..."

"We'll manage, Harry. Please don't worry."

Ginny apparated. In her hands were four bags full of food.

"How much did you buy?" Hermione asked.

"Enough for awhile. All the stuff was on sale, so don't worry about the cost." Immediately, Ginny started cooking. It took her five hours to cook everything up and package it. All of it went in the freezer.

"Just put it all in the oven until its heated," Ginny said. "And the cake's for you, too. The tonic is by the sink. Just take it when you begin to feel nauseous. It refills itself magically, so don't worry about taking too much."

"Ginny…thank you," Hermione said quietly.

"It's no problem, really. Mum is going to kill us if we aren't back for dinner, though, so goodbye. Take care of yourself and make sure you eat. I'll know if you didn't."

"And make sure Ron doesn't eat everything at once," Harry said, quickly hugging Hermione. He lowered his tone and said, "and if you need anything else, please ask or Ginny will take initiative again."

"Thank you, Harry," she whispered.

Ginny and Harry disapparated.


	7. Chapter 7

He stared the stuff spread out on his bed – all the stuff he had to pack by tomorrow. He looked at his little knapsack, alone not nearly large enough for all his junk. But Ginny had charmed it to make it bigger, a great help. Carefully, he loaded everything inside.

"Harry! Harry!" Teddy screamed, running into Harry's room. "You leave, Harry?"

"Yeah, I'm going on a trip for a few weeks."

"You stay here. I get you something." Teddy went down the stairs slowly, ran around downstairs, and then came upstairs slowly. Harry waited patiently for him.

"Here!" Teddy shouted, holding aloft one of his stuffed animals.

"Who is this?" Harry asked.

"Remmy! Take him with you. He wants to go with Harry!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Harry took the little dog toy and held it in his hands.

"Don't lose him!" Teddy said sternly.

"Of course not."

"I want him back, too." Teddy crossed his arms and stared at Harry.

"Of course."

Harry remembered when Teddy got this stuffed animal. It had been given to him by Remus, the dog's namesake, when Teddy was first born. Originally, the fabric had been turquoise, just like Teddy's hair, but it had faded to a light blue over the years. Andromeda had stitched it up a few times, and it had been washed even more than that.

"You know, I think Remmy should stay with you," Harry said.

"He'll protect you!" Teddy said, anger rising in his little voice. "If you leave him, he can not protect you! He protects you!"

"Ok…ok…" Harry looked at the little dog and put it on his bed with his other things. "Remmy will protect me."

Teddy grinned and hugged Harry's leg.

"Come on," Harry said, picking up the little boy, "let's go eat dinner."

3

Harry stared at Bresnen, both of them going through tracking methods.

"How did you catch the muggle abuser?" Bresnen asked. "you did it in record time. Faster than even I managed. How did you do it?"

"I…have my ways," Harry said.

"No, not here you don't. You have the ministry's ways. Anything you do individually is bogus. No one will legitimize it."

"There's a spell that reveals trails of magic."

Bresnen looked at Harry, a bit surprised.

"Really?"

"Yes. Each wand leaves a different trace. You latch onto the trace of a certain wand, follow it, and its good. It doesn't work in the wizarding world that well because of all the trails going everywhere. It's most beneficial for tracking wizards in the muggle world."

"I'm surprised you know about that," Bresnen said suspiciously. "Not many people, even the auror department, know about the distinctive trails of magic."

"I was trained under Albus Dumbledore."

"As were many."

Andy entered the room and sat down next to Bresnen.

"What kind of disguise did you bring?" Andy asked.

"Polyjuice potion," Bresnen said.

"Invisibility cloak," Harry said.

Andy stared at Harry, speechless.

"How did you get one of those?" Bresnen asked, clearly impressed.

"It was my father's."

"Ah, James…yes…I remember him mentioning that," Bresnen said.

"You worked with my father?"

"Very briefly before he died. Hardly a week."

"Well, both of you have good disguises, I suppose. Harry, you might have trouble in crowded places, but other than that is brilliant. Porter and Max are supposed to be here soon." As if on cue, the pair of them walked in, both looking a bit stressed.

"You have your disguise?" Andy asked.

"Yep," they pair replied. "Transfiguration."

"Ok…are we ready to go?" Bresnen said, looking around. His four subordinates nodded. "We're going to apparate to Diagon Alley to start. There's a small apartment in London that'll be our headquarters. Make sure you have your wands. Apparate to the joke shop basement. You know where that is, Harry?"

"Yep."

With a crack, the five of them disapparated.


	8. Chapter 8

The apartment they were staying at was dark and cold. The floor was dirty and the walls thin. Bresnen set up security measures, Andy disguising measures. Each person set up their bed and general area. The girls managed to pull a full mirror and dresser out of their bags, carpets and drapes. Bresnen had so much equipment Harry wondered how to use all of it. Andy pulled an entire potions set and shelving out of his bag. All of them had beds. Harry rolled out his sleeping bag and laid down.

"First overnight?" Max asked, observing Harry's meager accommodations.

"Mmm…yeah," Harry said. She nodded.

"Usually our room isn't this big. Always bring a bed and a sleeping bag just in case. And a chair, which you don't have. What else did you bring?"

"My cloak and clothes, a few reference books, and a stuffed animal my godson gave me." Harry put Remmy on his sleeping bag.

"Cute," Max said drolly. "Just try not to leave it on my bed. And bring what's important to you everywhere you go in case we need to leave or relocate abruptly. I've lost some pretty valuable stuff because we had to leave fast. Keep it in mind. Most of your time will be spent here, but just in case…"

"Ok."

"And don't eat unless you have to. You ought to be hungry most of the day. If you aren't, you're eating too much. We need to conserve in case we can't leave one day. Got it?"

"Yep."

"And, whatever you do, don't leave without your cloak on."

Harry nodded.

"Harry, what's that spell?" Bresnen asked.

"You need a pair of glasses."

"With or without lenses?"

"I…don't know," Harry said. "I've only done it on my glasses, so I don't know if it'll work without lenses."

"Ok," Bresnen said. "Max, go down to the convienence store down the street and get four pairs of reading glasses and four pairs of sunglasses."

"You want me to use the budget?"

"Yes."

"Ok, captain." Max tapped the top of her own head with her wand and turned herself into an old lady. Bent and hobbling, she left the room.

"When she comes back, you need to take the lenses out of the reading glasses and do the spell on them, and the spell on the sunglasses as they are. Got it?" Bresnen said.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied.

"So what's the game plan?" Andy asked.

"Figure out where they are," Bresnen said, "And infiltrate. You do it; you're the only pureblood on the team."

"So I'll pass the test; so what? But what's my name? I can't use Antonius, because they'll know its me."

"You're Ophelia O'Kannon."

"But that isn't a pure blood name."

"Turn into the girl," Bresnen insisted.

"I don't want to waste it."

"We're only here for two weeks and you have enough for two months."

"I don't know how long we're going to be here for!" Andy shouted.

"Be quiet; you'll alert the people around us," Porter said sharply.

"You infiltrate and then get arrested. It's easy. Just do it."

"I don't know…I…I don't know if I'm up to it," he said.

"Andy, you've done this several times before, it'll be ok," Bresnen said.

"Yeah…" Andy laid back on his bed and stared at the spidery ceiling.

"Harry, what does that spell look like?" Bresnen asked.

Harry took off his glasses and charmed them. He put them back on and could see the trail everyone had left but him. He had learned how to repress the magical trail leaking from his wand, preventing the ability to be tracked by his magic.

"Your wand leaves a thick, purple trail," Harry said, pointing at Bresnen. Your wand is Oak, the core dragon hearstring. Olivander. On the shorter side." He turned to Porter. "Yours is a whispy trail, almost like a dust, and is green, but more blue than yellow. Its…made of willow with a unicorn hair." He turned to Andy. "Yours is thin – more liquid than dust – and is red. Holly with dragon hearstring. Max's is silver and like thick dust – hers is Birch and Pheonix feather. Once you know the basic combinations, you'll see the subtle differences between people's wands – the shade or the subtle changes in consistency with length of the wand."

The group stared at him.

"What's your wand like?" they asked quietly.

"It's holly and phoenix feather, so it looks almost exactly like Andy's, but silver and less lustrous than Max's."

"How…how did you come about this?" Andy asked.

"I developed it with a close friend – Hermione Weasley."

"Weasley? The one they're letting go?" Porter said, appalled. "That girl can't transfigure a fly, but she can come up with something that brilliant?"

"What do you mean? She was top of the class at Hogwarts. She could…can…transfigure anything!" Harry said.

"No, not in the real world. The magical inhibitions present in the real world are dissipated in Hogwarts to give students a better understanding of magic."

"Wait…that doesn't make any sense. I could perform magic just as well out of school as in school."

"No…subtle differences. Some wands are affected more by the inhibitions than others," Bresnen said.

"Can she perform the charm?"

"Yes."

"Alright; I'll let Nick know." Bresnen wrote a quick note and gave it to Porter. "Bring this to George, will you?"

"Is there anything else that needs to go?" she asked.

"No."

Nodding, Porter tapped her head with her wand and transfigured into a tall, stately woman, her face long and droll like she had been in Slytherin, her hair blonder than it had been a moment ago.

"So long, Priscilla," Andy said. Porter glared at him and left the room, the letter

in her hand.

Not long after, Max returned with a small paper bag of eight pairs of glasses. Harry took them and started charming them. The reading glasses worked without the lenses, so he gave them to Bresnen.

"Why doesn't your wand excrete magic?" Bresnen asked.

"I've trained it not to," Harry answered, pointing his wand at another pair of glasses.

"Wow…I can see spells being cast," he said in awe.

"It makes speechless battles useless," Harry said. "There are other ways to detect the onslaught of a spell other than your ears."

"Whose idea was it; yours or Weasley's?"

"Weasley's. I told her about the idea that magic leaves trails and she started looking into the idea of being able to see the trails. We worked together on the compiling an actual spell that works, but she did all the research and most of the work. I was just the guinea pig."

"We'll deal with how to suppress the magic from seeping out of your wand later, right now, finish the charms and get some rest. All of you." Bresnen sprawled on his bed and in ten minutes was snoring. The others slowly fell asleep. Harry stared at the ceiling, silent, wondering what was going to happen tomorrow or the next day. When Porter came back, and after she had fallen asleep, he managed to get a few hours of rest.

3

The only time they really worked was at night. Harry and Bresnen struggled during the day to pinpoint one of them who was a part of the underground operation. At night, the other three would try and find them. They would come back at dawn, either successful or failing. Harry and Bresnen would research some more, sit at shady bars all day, ordering drinks and listening to various conversations, or looking into a plate of glass Bresnen had brought, which showed you any area of London you wanted to look at.

It took them nine days to find out where they met and when. That night, Ophelia went to see them. Andy hated the idea. He didn't like it at all. Bresnen and Harry watched from the apartment through the glass. The other two went with him, making sure he wasn't going to get killed.

"This is a dangerous operation," Bresnen reminded Harry. "We need to arrest the three of them at the right time in the right place so they can all see it. I'm thinking in three days. Then we spend two synthesizing information. Ok?"

"Yes, sir."

Harry stared at the glass, watching them meander through the streets of London. It angered him that he could not hear a thing. They spent all night talking with dark wizards, wooing them to reveal intricate information. They came back drunk and stumbling, the pins attached to their jackets full of information.

"Put 'em to bed, Harry, they need to sleep it off until tomorrow," Bresnen ordered. Harry took off their shoes and cloaks and carefully laid them in bed, throwing blankets over them. Bresnen looked at the information.

"Make 'em some potion to get 'em sober for tomorrow," Bresnen said. "Andy should have left the recipe in the cauldron."

Harry spent the day making potions. He spent the next four days making potion and preventing the three who were perpetually drunk or hung over from vomiting on the floor. This was not what he expected his first assignment to be like. It was a long few weeks, and he couldn't wait to be back home.

3

"Harry, you need to stay here while I go arrest the other two."

"Are they at a wizarding bar?"

"Yes."

"Ok."

"Pack everything up while I'm gone except for the glass; watch through the glass." He tapped the glass and Harry could hear what Porter could hear.

"Mmm…yes…yes…that is true, Priscilla…ever since that Potter boy defeated the Dark Lord, we have been rather…upset…what we need is a strong leader. Do you know where we can find one of those?" the man talking to Porter reached out and put his arm around her slender shoulders.

"Where, my dear?" Priscilla coaxed, tracing his chin with a long finger.

"His son," the man whispered.

"Really?" Priscilla said. "I didn't know he…reproduced."

"Oh, yes, a single son – Oliver. Born to a feisty woman he knew at Hogwarts. Ah, dear Priscilla, your ignorance amuses me. But I must leave, now, or else I risk looking the fool to a beautiful woman."

"Oh, my dear, you are too adorable for such things."

"She's good, isn't she?" Bresnen asked, putting a heavy hand on Harry's shoulders. "Pack everything up, and when we apparate to the ministry, put the glass in the bag, and follow us there. We'll be in the auror's department."

"Yes, sir."

Bresnen disapparated. Harry heard him apparate at the bar. He was loud, demanding, powerful. There was a brief spat they had practiced the night before. Harry waved his wand around the room a few times, consolidating everything in their respective bags, and turned his attention back to the glass.

"Arrested for the misuse of muggle artifacts and muggle abuse!" Bresnen declared. He disapparated with a crack.

Harry gathered the bags, deposited the glass in Bresnen's bag, and disapparated.


	9. Chapter 9

"Careful, Harry," Hermione said, watching Harry and Ron carry a large package into the Burrow.

"Why can't we use magic, again?" Ron complained.

"Because you'll damage it," Hermione said.

"You do know it's hard to take you seriously when you refuse to tell us what it is in the first place, right?" Ron said, trying to get it through the Burrow's narrow door.

"I already told you what it was." Hermione crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently on the ground.

"Well evidently I wasn't paying attention."

"Evidently."

"So are you going to tell me what it is?"

"Of course not; you need to learn to pay attention, Ronald."

"Then you carry it in!" Ron shouted across the yard.

"Yeah, Ron, that's really logical," she said back, "making your pregnant wife carry in the table."

"You know, you could have just told me it was a table to begin with."

"You could have just listened from the beginning."

"Ron, just drop it," Harry said. They went through this, or something very similar

to this, every year. The Weasley reunions usually ended well, but it started with these two yelling at each other. Every year, halfway through June, the Burrow seethed with Weasleys, their spouses, and their spouses' families. It was the one time in summer when Charlie came home. It was the one time of year the Delacours came over from France. Every third year extended relatives of the Weasley clan came and joined in the celebration. This was not one of those years, and Harry was grateful for it; he couldn't imagine Mrs. Weasley trying to accommodate all those additional people this year. Ginny would not be happy sharing her room with relatives, either.

"Bring the table out back, boys," Mrs. Weasley said, a spoon dripping with sauce in her hand.

"Mum, can't we just get something to drink first?" Ron asked. His face was red from the exertion.

"Ron, the joke shop has made you soft."

"Are you kidding? It's wicked hot out there."

"Ron, suck it up and let's finish this."

"And hurry up with setting it up; Ginny is going to be here in three minutes," Mrs. Weasley said.

Ginny had been in Italy for a few weeks, playing four games against some teams from the Italian Federation of Quidditch. She had been extraordinarily anxious before leaving. Ron and Harry dumped the table in the backyard. Hermione came out shortly after and flicked her wand around, setting it up. Her shirt had started to become tight, her waist finally beginning to thicken.

"Hey, Harry," Ginny said from behind him. Harry turned around. He was greatly taken aback by her appearance. She was just as slender as before, but her hair was different…instead of her natural red, it was black, but it was long enough to pull back in a pony tail. She seemed more confident than she had been before she left for Italy. But this…was unexpected.

"Hey, Ginny," Harry said. Ginny grinned, taking pleasure in Harry's incredulity.

"Shit, Gin, what did you do?" Ron said abrasively, walking brazenly up to his sister and flinging her hair around.

"Ron, lay off, I just wanted something different," Ginny said.

"Well I'll say," Ron said, staring at his sister.

"Ron, stop it," Hermione said. "How are you doing Ginny?"

"Pretty good," she said. "How about you? Have you stopped feeling nauseous?"

"For the most part, but every now and then I still vomit a little."

"That's good, at least it's getting better."

"We need to talk later, Gin," Hermione said, putting a hand on Ginny's shoulder. Ginny nodded sheepishly and looked around.

"Do you know when Charlie's getting here?" Ginny asked.

"No," Ron replied.

"I think Fleur said he was staying with them," Hermione said, looking over the table setting.

"Yeah, that makes sense," Ron said, wrapping his arm around Hermione.

"Bonjour!" Fleur said from the doorway to the back. Harry watched, amused, as Ginny turned around, completely ignored Bill and Fleur, and flung herself at Charlie, squealing with delight.

"Merlin, Ginny, you can't do that anymore – you aren't a kid," Bill said, trying not to laugh.

"Ah, come on, Bill," Charlie said, swinging her around, "you can't mean that.

She's barely bigger than my first aide kit."

"Yeah, sure, go ahead, don't even say hi to your oldest brother," Bill said, waving her off.

"Hi, Bill," Ginny said. "Charlie, how have you been?"

"Pretty much the same. Got thrown off the back of a dragon a few months back, but I'm fine now. What I'm interested in, is what about you? From what I hear, you've just broken three records for the quidditch league. That's impressive!"

"Thanks," Ginny muttered, her face red.

"You've broken how many records? And you still get embarrassed when someone mentions it?" Charlie lifted her up and spun her around again unexpectedly. When she was put back down, she stepped a few feet away and wrapped her arms protectively around herself. "Did I hurt you? I'm...I'm sorry, Gin. Dragons tend not to care...not that you're a dragon or anything..."

"No, Charlie, it...it was nothing," Ginny said. She forced a grin. Charlie looked at her suspiciously, but left it alone. "Just...give me warning next time. You just surprised me."

"Alright," Charlie said. "Has mum said anything about your hair yet?"

"No...but I have a feeling she's just going to corner us both together. Look at you – you look like you just rolled out of bed."

"That's because he did," Bill said, clapping his brother on the back.

"So Harry, how have you been?" Charlie asked, coming quickly over to him.

"Good. I managed to pass the auror examination."

"I knew you would. How about you, Hermione? How is your training going?"

"Well," Hermione said, "it's not. I was transferred to the department of mysteries."

"What do you do for them?"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss it."

"Of course," Charlie said. "Do you know when the others are going to get here? I want to start up the fire pit."

3

"Harry, what do you think of Ginny's hair?" Hermione asked late that night, when the stars were bright and Ginny was watching the boys wrestle.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, biting into a cake.

"I'm…I'm worried about her. This isn't like her."

"She's trying to feel like she has control," Harry said impulsively. He had no idea if it was true or not, but he ran with it. "I say just let her go through it; it's just a phase. Personally, I find the red more attractive…but I'll get used to the black. I'm just glad it grew out again."

"Mum's going to rip her to shreds," Hermione muttered, staring at the sky. She winced.

"What's wrong?"

"My head just started throbbing. It's nothing, really. Sometimes I think this child is going to be the end of me."

"It had better not," Harry said. "I would have difficult time keeping Ron in line on my own."

"You'd do fine."

"Seriously, Hermione, you will be fine, right?"

"You know, you've been even more anxious over my pregnancy than Ron. He hasn't suggested once that either I or this baby will die; why do you keep bringing it up?"

Harry looked at the fire crackling in front of the apple orchard.

"I don't know," Harry replied.


	10. Chapter 10

Harry had Teddy on his shoulders. Bill had Vicky on his. All around them, people were screaming for the Cannons, Ron being one of many. Hermione was sitting down next to Vicky, the two women not enjoying it at all. When Ginny Weasley was announced, Teddy squealed with delight and pointed at the Weasley. Vicky looked around, as if she expected her to walk down from the stands.

"This is quidditch, Teddy!" Harry yelled up at his godson. He laughed loudly, his hair changing to match his orange jersey. Some of the spectators around them pointed and laughed and cheered for the young animorphmagus. Teddy laughed and pointed at himself on the large screen by the score board.

The game began. Every time Ginny's name was mentioned, Vicky looked around for her. Every time the people around them screamed in delight, so did Teddy. Harry watched intently, knowing that Ginny was only three shots away from beating Ralph McGregor in total points earned by any single chaser. No one was sure how she was able to rise up so quickly, but she had. And now they waited on every play, anticipating Ginny's success.

It was frustrating for Harry to see her play without a broomstick underneath him. He missed the days they played together for Gryffindor, but knew he was not match for the Cannon's seeker.

Ginny scored five hundred points – made fifty shots – and beat not only McGregor's record for total points ever scored, but her own record for points scored per game.

"Ginny Weasley has done it!" the announcer screamed over the roar of the crowd. "Ginny Weasley has beaten McGregor's record!"

Harry took Teddy off his shoulders swung him around in jubilation. He laughed and screamed with the crowd. Vicky was scared by the noise and began to cry. No matter what Bill or Fleur did, they could not calm her down.

"I think we need to leave, now," Bill yelled to Harry over the crowd. "Vicky's been up too late, and I think Teddy is going to fall down if you keep him up there for much longer."

Harry pulled Teddy off his shoulders and held him. Almost immediately, the boy fell asleep. Harry spread the word down the line that they were leaving and the group filed out of the stadium. After the noise died down, Vicky regained her composure and fell asleep on her father's shoulder.

"I can't believe Ginny did it," Ron said, grinning like a jack-o-lantern. "I can't believe a Weasley is going down in history like she is. In years to come, the only thing people will remember about the Weasleys is Ginny." Ron squatted down so he was level with Hermione's belly, put his hands around her waist, and said. "Baby, I expect you to live up to your aunt's legacy, you know. Become a great keeper or beater or chaser and put your name in the record books, too, ok? But if you don't want to, you can always just become prime minister. Or open a joke shop in France. Or really do whatever you want, so long as you do it as well as your aunt does quidditch, ok?"

"Ronald!" Hermione yelled, desperately trying to hold back her laughter at her husband's exploits. He stood up and wrapped his arm around her.

"I'm just giving our baby some encouragement," he said, ushering her along.

"It could be worse, Hermione," Fleur said. "Bill started singing to my stomach in the middle of Diagon Alley when I was with Victoire. That was embarrassing."

"I still don't understand why," Bill mused.

"So what do you think we should name him if he's a boy?" Ron asked.

"Not Dominic," Bill said. "We lay claims on it."

"What about Christian?" Hermione said.

"Christian Weasley? I don't know…it sounds ok, but I don't really like the name," Ron said.

"What kind of names do you like, then?"

"Gawain," Harry said, remembering a brief conversation they had at Hogwarts.

"Gawain Weasley? No, I'm not doing it," Hermione said.

"Not even Christian Gawain?"

"Don't do it, Hermione," Fleur said, "Bill tried the same tricks on me."

"No, Ron."

"What about Jon? Christian Jon? Christian Jon Weasley? Hmm?"

"I like it," Hermione admitted.

"Alright, that's what we'll name our son," Ron said. "Christian Jon. Christian Jon! Christian Jon, put that down!" He pointed his finger patronizingly at the air. Harry couldn't help but laugh; if there was anything Ron wasn't, it was intimidating. "Now what about a girl? I was thinking something along the lines of Martha, or Marjorie."

"Absolutely not. Rose Lee. After my grandmother."

They came to a cross streets and turned left to get to the parking garage.

"Rose Lee Weasely? Alright…I'll let you have the name," Ron said, guiding her across the street. "What about you two?"

"Dominique," Fleur replied.

"Why is it that the Weasley men here seem to have an inability to name their children?" Harry said.

"Shut up, Harry," Bill said. "You aren't even married, yet. You'll understand later."

"I already know what I'm naming my children: Lily, James, and Albus."

"And if you have two girls?" Ron asked.

"I'll need to talk with my wife," Harry said, pulling the keys out of his pocket while balancing Teddy on his right arm. He opened the door and put the boy in his seat. Vicky went next to him. The two women sat in the back and the three men crammed in the front.

"You need a bigger car," Bill complained, trying to maneuver around Ron.

"What he needs is someone who can do a decent charm," Vicky said.

"Whatever, let's just go," Ron said. Harry started the car and began driving.

"You guys are spending the night at the Burrow, right?"

"Yeah," both brothers agreed. Within three minutes of driving, both women were sleeping.

"Are you hungry?" Ron asked.

"I just want to get home," Harry said, giving the car more gas. "I'll personally make you a sandwich when we get there. Ok, Ron?"

"Yes."

They drove for an hour. Ten minutes outside of London, Hermione woke up, a confused look on her face.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Ron asked.

"My back's a little tight," she said. "I think I need to get out of the car for a few minutes."

"The Leaky Cauldron is just up that street there, do you want to go there and get something to eat?" Harry said. He was beginning to get hungry, but didn't want to admit it to Ron.

"Ok," Hermione said, quietly crossing her arms.


	11. Chapter 11

They waited for Hermione to come out of the bathroom before getting seated. Teddy's face was squished against Harry's shoulder and Vicky's against Bill's. It took Hermione almost five minutes to emerge from the bathroom. And when she did, no one liked what they saw.

Her face was white, as if she had seen a ghost, and her hand covered her mouth, horrified.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Ron asked, putting his hands on her shoulders.

"I…I think I need to go to the doctor's," she mumbled.

"Why? What happened?"

"I…I'm bleeding, Ron," she whispered, her voice harsh.

Ron didn't say anything. His eyes darted back and forth, searching Hermione's face.

"Was it a lot or a little?" Fleur asked.

"A lot," she sobbed.

"It's alright," Ron whispered, wrapping his arms around her.

"Ron, take her to the doctor's by the Floo Network," Fleur said.

Nodding, Ron led Hermione to the fireplace and threw in some dust.

"You go first; I'll follow," Ron said. Nodding, Hermione stepped into the green flames.

"Wake up Teddy and give me Vicky. I'll take them to the Burrow and see if Mum will watch them. You two go apparate there straight away. I'll meet you there with sandwiches."

"Teddy!" Harry said softly, shaking the small boy.

"What?" Teddy asked angrily.

"I need you to go with Fleur for a while, ok? You're going to go travel by Floo Powder!"

"Floo powder!" He became instantly excited, wriggling out of Harry's arms. Harry put him on the ground.

"Listen to me, Teddy. You need to hold onto Fleur as tight as you possibly can, ok?"

"As tight as I can?"

"Yes."

"What if I hurt her?"

"You won't, Teddy. It's just important that you hold onto her tight and then do what Mrs. Weasley tells you to when you get to the Burrow, ok?"

"Ok, Harry." Teddy clung to Fleur immediately.

"Wait until we're in the fire, Teddy," Fleur said, "but that's good." Teddy let go. "I'll see you guys there. Hurry up and go support Ron; he's going to need it. I'll see if I can get Ginny to come, too."

"Thanks," Harry said, and disapparated.

3

Ron paced back and forth in the hallway, his hands lodged in his pockets. Harry watched him, speechless. Harry didn't know what to say. Bill stood up after half an hour and joined his brother in pacing. They hadn't heard anything yet.

"Ginny said she'd be here soon," Fleur said, looking at the clock on the far wall in the waiting room.

"How was Teddy on the Floo Network?" Harry asked.

"Excitable," Fleur said. "He wouldn't stop giggling, even after we got to the Burrow and we tried to put him to bed. Mum's never going to forgive us for it."

"I'm sure she will," Harry said.

There was a loud crack and Ginny stumbled into the room, her legs unstable.

"Ron," she said, hugging him tightly. "I'm so sorry." Harry watched Ron tighten his arms around his sister. He started crying. Bill walked over to them and put a hand on Ron's back. Harry wished there was something he could do, something he could say. But there was nothing. No one had ever told him he was going to be a father. No one had ever told him his child had died. He had seen people die in general – the Battle at Hogwarts still haunted his memory – but it was different to see your friends die than your son. He stared at the tiled floor, silent.

"Ronald Weasley?" The doctor yelled from the hallway. The three Weasleys walked over to him, his blue robes stained with blood.

"Come with us, Harry," Fleur said, standing up. Harry followed her example and stood behind Ron, Bill, and Ginny.

"She's sleeping right now, but as soon as she wakes up, she can go home," the doctor said. "I'm sorry for your loss, Ron."

Ron bowed his head, staring at his shoes.

"You can go in and see her; just try not to wake her."

Ginny and Bill pushed Ron into the room, Fleur and Harry following. Ron sat next to the bed, staring at Hermione, his face tight. Ginny paced back and forth with Bill on her heels. Fleur sat down in one of the chairs and within ten minutes was sleeping lightly. Harry leaned against a wall, staring at Ron and Hermione.

Throughout their friendship, they had done almost everything together. They had beaten down a troll. They had tried to save Hogwarts from the Basilisk. They had saved Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, and Buckbeak the Hippogriff from death. They had all helped Harry make it through the Triwiziard tournament. They had rebelled against extreme ministry actions and the grand inquisitor. They had protected Hogwarts against Deatheaters. They had found the horcruxes together. They all saw the devastation at the Battle of Hogwarts. They all experienced the subsequent joy.

But this…this was something only they could understand.


	12. Chapter 12

"We're leaving for another trip in three days," Bresnen told Harry, putting a packet of papers on his desk. "Read those."

"What's in it?"

"Information from the previous assignment. You're the only one who doesn't know what they say. It isn't your fault or anything. But you need to know it."

"Yes, sir."

"And bring a sleeping bag; we're living in an office of a broken down warehouse."

"Yes, sir."

"We leave Friday; don't be late."

3

"I got assigned to a mission," Harry said at dinner.

"When do you leave?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Friday."

"Do you know what you'll be doing?" Mr. Weasley said.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss it," Harry said.

"How long are you gone for?" Ginny asked, pushing her peas around her plate.

"A couple of weeks – the same as last time."

"Just be careful," Ginny said, pointing her fork at Harry. Harry looked at her and grinned. He had difficulty taking her serious with black hair. There was just something about it that threw him off. It didn't look unnatural, strangely enough, but he knew it wasn't right. That was enough for him to feel awkward. Ginny returned his grin and went back to her peas.

"I'll be with Bresnen again. I'm sure he won't make me do anything dangerous."

"Do you want to come with me to Diagon Alley tomorrow?" Ginny asked.

"What are you doing there?"

"I'm…supposed to be going to Flourish and Blotts. The Cannon's year in review is supposed to be coming out and coach wants me to be there for the unveiling. I only need to be there for two hours, so after that…if you want to go do something…"

"Yeah, sure, I could use a new sneak-o-scope. Bresnen blasted me for the one I brought and told me to get a new one."

3

Flourish and Blotts was packed. Harry couldn't even see the door from where he stood with Ginny. And everyone wanted to talk with Ginny. Everyone wanted to shake her hand. Everyone wanted her signature. And she gladly gave it. Behind a table, she couldn't give hugs. She didn't offer them. And she didn't take them. She was constantly going, a smile on her face, a pen her hand. A stack of pictures of her was on the desk near her, her stats printed neatly on the bottom under her smiling face. It was an older picture – taken when she still had red hair – and a few people asked her why that was. She always smiled in response and shrugged.

"Why not?" she said every time. The fan grinned, shrugged, and took the signed picture. After the two hours, the store closed briefly. Ginny helped the staff clean up – sweeping and putting away tables. Harry helped a little, too, and the staff greatly thanked Ginny, floored that someone as famous as Ginny "Fireball" Weasely would help them clean, of all things. They thanked her profusely and she brushed off their awe.

"Yeah, well, you did give me lunch, so I owed you. Now we're even," Ginny said, throwing her jacket across her shoulders. The staff chuckled a bit and saw them off.

"Merlin, that was the two longest hours of my life," Ginny muttered as soon as they went onto the street.

"Really? You seemed to enjoy it," Harry said, looking around for the dark arts store.

"I seem to enjoy a lot of things, Harry." She sighed and turned into York's – the defense against the dark arts shop – and started looking around. "You said you needed a sneak-o-scope?"

"Yeah…"

Harry found the massive shelf of tools and stared at them.

"You work for the ministry?" the man behind the counter asked, a tall, thin man with a gaunt face.

"What's it to you?" Harry asked.

"You need something for your nephew?"

"Yes," Harry said. He got excited – a discount! "His name's Gaius; he's turning fourteen."

"You don't have a nephew," Ginny said, confused.

"I'll explain it later, Gin," Harry said, beginning to examine the sneak-o-scopes. "What do you think of this one?" Harry pointed to a silver one, the glass misty.

"I think it's fine," Ginny said. She had already gotten interested in some spell books along the back wall. Harry looked at it.

"Gin, act like you're going to kill me."

"No, Harry; we tried that before, didn't we? And it didn't work."

"Come on, I want to hear it make noise."

"No; I hate the noise those things make."

"Can you change the sensitivity on this one?" Harry asked the man behind the counter, taking the silver one off the shelf.

"What do you want it set at?"

"Mortal peril," Harry said.

"Imminent mortal peril," Ginny said.

"That's too close," Harry said.

"By the time it goes off with mortal peril, you'll be in a fight. Imminent mortal peril will at least give you some warning as to what exactly is going to happen."

"Ginny, you don't know what you're talking about."

"You're with Bresnen, the best auror currently alive. They aren't going to give him prissy assignments."

"I've been through the training. I know what I'm getting into. You don't need to worry."

"I will worry, Harry. You've never been one to sit back and let things happen. You've always been in the middle of things, and you're always going to be in the middle of things. I can accept that; I already have. But, the thing is, you've always been prepared. If you don't have the proper preparation, then you're not going to be successful. I swear, Harry, if anything happens to you…"

"Nothing will happen to me, Gin."

"Of course, because Harry James Potter, the boy who lived, is absolutely immortal. Yes?"

"No, you don't understand."

"I do understand. That's the problem." Ginny put the spell book back on the shelf. "I understand better than most. The majority of hexes are not classified as mortally peril, but imminent mortal peril. Same for the curses. You will still be open to so many things that will incapacitate you before you get to mortal peril…it's your decision, ultimately, but…you know what I think."

He hated when Ginny knew what she was talking about. Harry took his choice off the shelf and put it on the counter.

"Perceptivity rating?" the man asked.

"Imminent mortal peril."


	13. Chapter 13

Harry stared at the room they were supposed to be sleeping in. Bresnen's equipment took up half the space, and the sleeping bags, unrolled and laid next to each other, took up the other half. Bresnen was staring into his glass, his face obscured by his hands. Max was staring at the leaky ceiling, half asleep. Andy was sitting up, looking at the glass from where he sat. Porter was brushing her hair. There was also a sixth crew member – Pat – who was a thin, reedy man with sandy hair.

"What's the plan, Bresnen?" Andy asked sternly, his arms crossed.

"We find this Oliver Towner and figure out if he has any magical ability or aspirations of ascending to the position of his father."

"Is that the entire objective of this mission?" Harry asked.

"Did you read the packet?" Bresnen asked.

"The thing was a hundred pages long; how am I supposed to remember everything?"

"Whatever you say, Harry; the next objective is to make sure he doesn't have any children with magical ability or who threaten us for the time being," Max said, her eyes closed.

"How are we going to do that?" Harry asked.

"That's tricky. It's a shady town, really, with a lot of underground dealings. Towner is either a drug dealer, or an alcoholic. No one really knows which right now. But we need to have the utmost care when dealing with this," Max said.

"We're going to use your cloak," Bresnen said.

"What cloak?" Pat asked, his voice raspy and low.

"He's got an invisibility cloak," Porter said, "though I've never seen it." Pat grunted and stared at Bresnen.

"What does my cloak have to do with anything?" Harry said.

"Well, we're in a muggle town, aren't we? So someone has to follow around Porter and Andy while they try to figure something out, making sure they don't get killed," Max said.

"We'll circulate it between Pat, Harry, and me," Bresnen said.

"What? No. Absolutely not," Harry said firmly, crossing his arms indignantly.

"Do you have a better solution?" Bresnen demanded, his face red.

"Well…you can't use my cloak!" No one had used his cloak but him except for Ron and Hermione at Hogwarts. He wasn't about to change that easily. It was tradition, it was how it was done. It was one of only a few things that hadn't changed.

"Potter!" Bresnen's voice permeated every limb of Harry, shaking him to his bone marrow. "That cloak is not designed to sit in your bag! It is not designed to be some useless piece of fabric! It's a valuable tool especially useful in the business of wizard hunting! Now, if you will, comply with the requests. It's what your father would have wanted."

"Fine," Harry said. He reached into his bag and pulled out the flowing fabric. It was light against his skin, cool. He hadn't worn it in years; there had been no need to. During training, the only tool he was allowed to have was his wand. He had forgotten how much it reminded him of Hogwarts. He could almost smell the Gryffindor common room ingrained into its fabric. He let it fall onto his sleeping bag. The crew stared at the silvery cloak, all of them awed.

"To be honest," Bresnen said, his voice low, "I really didn't think you actually had one."

3

Harry stared at Porter, transformed into a small woman with dark gray hair and a few whiskers on her upper lip. She was grotesque but easy to see in a crowd. Andy had gone with her, his hair black and his height tall. He was posing as her grandson, Dalton.

"Grandma," Andy said, wrapping his arm around the ostensibly frail woman.

"Yes?" Porter hadn't gotten the intonation of an old lady right, yet.

"That doesn't work," Andy said, "it needs to be feebler."

"Yes?" Porter's voice trembled more and was considerable fainter.

"Do you want to go get something to eat?"

"Why, I believe I would," Porter said, allowing herself to be led to the nearest pub.

Harry followed close behind, keeping his ears open for anything unusual, his glasses charmed to pick up on any magical traces. There was nothing in the streets. He scanned all the houses, hoping there would be a trail leading into one of them, clearly marking the house of Towner. They slid into the pub, which was oddly busy for the middle of the day, and Harry stood still by the door, constantly scanning not only the bar where Porter and Andy were seated, but all possible exits and everyone sitting at tables.

The only thing that anyone picked up all night was silverware. The only thing anyone said was casual conversation. No one slipped Andy or Porter anything in their drinks. No one acted suspiciously. Harry followed them back to the office.

3

"Are you sure he's here?" Pat asked, crossing his arms and staring at Porter.

"Yes," Porter replied, rubbing heavy make-up off her face.

"Where?"

"Fourteen Vale Road," Andy said.

"I'm going with you tomorrow," Pat said. "Is the cloak big enough to cover me?"

Harry looked at the cloak hooked on the peg.

"It should be," Bresnen said. "The thing's way too big for Potter."

"How long before we get any decent information?" Max asked.

"We haven't actually talked with Towner," Andy muttered, rubbing his eyes. "So I think once we manage to engage him in conversation, it'll be quick."

"We need to get an idea of the magical capabilities of his children," Bresnen said.

"There is no magic in this town," Harry said with fair certainty. "I didn't even see a trace of magic anywhere."

"Did anyone?" Bresnen asked.

"No."

"If this is a dead end, I'm killing something," Pat said, leaning back against the wall.

"Everyone get some sleep. I'm putting all of you to work tomorrow," Bresnen said.

3

Harry paced back and forth. Pat was out with the invisibility cloak. Andy was out with Porter. Max was out playing with some children, trying to figure out if anyone was a Towner. Bresnen stared into his glass, his eyes locked on Max. Harry wished Bresnen would switch to Pat. He wasn't sure he quite trusted anyone else with the cloak. It meant a lot to him. It was one of the precious few things he had of his father's. It was one of the precious few things that tied him to Hogwarts. It was one of the very few things that had been given to him by Dumbledore.

"Harry, get over here," Bresnen said.

"What is it, sir?"

"Are your glasses charmed?"

"Yes."

"Is that kid magic?"

He pointed to one of the children, a young girl probably twelve, her brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was playing soccer with some boys.

"Yes," Harry said. "She has her wand with her."

Harry could see the purple trail wherever the kid went. It was made of yew, the trail thick and gelatinous. Voldemort's wand was yew. She was Voldemort's. His hands clenched by his side.

"Who let her into Hogwarts?" Harry demanded. He could feel the anger rising in him. He wanted to go into the field where they were and kill her. He wanted to destroy every trace of Voldemort from the world.

"Control yourself, Harry," Bresnen said casually.

Harry took a deep breath. It was the first thing they taught him in training -occlumency. He didn't like it any more than he did when Snape was trying to teach him. But they insisted he learned it. He calmed himself, thinking of flying or Ginny or the Burrow or Hogwarts.

"They let her into Hogwarts because she has intense magical ability," Bresnen continued. "I'll get Max to get her name and have the department look her up."

3

"Polly Towner. Going into her third year at Hogwarts. Gryffindor. Twelve and half inch yew. Dragon heartstring. Top grades. No disciplinary problems. Born to muggle parents. There is no reason to think she will cause us trouble," Bresnen said. "She knows nothing about Voldemort. Her father knows nothing about him. Her grandmother nor mother knows anything about him. She's harmless."

The crew stared at Bresnen.

"So we came out here to find out no one is threatening us?" Pat asked, crossing his arms.

"We spent four days sleeping on a floor to figure out these guys are harmless?"

Andy said.

"I had to go four days without any hair products for these results?" Max said.

"How did I ever end up with you guys, eh? Hurry up and get ready to leave. If we stay here much longer, we risk being found by dark wizards and alerting them to the presence of Towner. The ministry will set up a group to look over them, but aren't it. Now let's go."

"So no one is going to organize the dark wizards?" Harry asked.

"No one here," Bresnen confirmed.


	14. Chapter 14

"Happy birthday, Harry," Ron greeted, handing him a present. "This is from me and Hermione." Harry opened it excitedly. It was a new chess set.

"Thanks, Ron, just what I always wanted," Harry said sarcastically.

"Yeah, you know I just got it so I could pulverize you," Ron said.

"Where is Hermione, anyway?" Ginny asked, passing her present to Harry.

He opened it apprehensively, wondering briefly if Ginny would get him something serious or goofy. It was a box of chocolates from Italy.  
"Where'd you get these, Gin?" he asked, tipping the box around.

"I have my sources," she cryptically said.

"She's working," Ron answered morosely. "She's been trying to finish some project or another."

"She's been working a lot, hasn't she?" Percy asked, a hunk of cake balancing precariously on the end of his fork.

"This is from us," Audrey said, passing the present over to Harry. It was a lumpy package, and was surprised by a pair of slippers.

"Yeah, she has; I don't think I've seen her for more than an hour all week."

"Everyone needs a good pair of slippers," Percy said seriously.

"It was his idea," Audrey said.

"And this is from Mr. Weasley and me," Mrs. Weasley said, handing him a small box. This was not what he was expecting. Usually Mrs. Weasley gave fudge or cake or something to that effect, but this was…definitely not fudge or cake or something to that effect. Slowly, he opened it.

"I know it isn't what you're expecting," Mrs. Weasly said. "But I think you'll like it."

Harry stared at the small device. It was a little gold bird pendant attached to a chain, in its beak a small ruby.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Well, with you on Bresnen's crew, I thought it important to get you one. They're underground – you won't find them for sale anywhere. When anyone who intends to do you harm approaches, the little ruby goes hot; you'll feel it against your skin. It uses an obscure kind of occlumency," Mr. Weasley said.

"Thanks," Harry said, putting it over his head. The jewel was distinctively cool against his skin.

"Is Fleur and Bill coming?" George asked, tossing his present to Harry. "It's a box of the latest product, by the way."

"George, don't ruin the surprise," Angelina muttered. Harry removed the paper and grinned at the wacky packaging they chose. It was green and yellow and blue and definitely almost gave him a headache when he looked at it.

"Thanks, George."

"Vicky's sick," Mrs. Weasley said. "Nothing serious, but enough that she needs to sleep."

"That's too bad," George muttered, leaning back with his hands behind his head. "I really wanted to give her a puking pastel."

"George!" Angelina shouted, stomping on his foot.

"Hey, do you guys want to go to the last quidditch game of the season?" Ginny asked.

"And watch you break every record ever set by anyone?" Ron asked, crossing his arms. "And miss watching the Cannons completely? Of course I want to go. What do you think I am, crazy?"

"That depends, Ron," Ginny said. "What about you guys?"

"We can't. We'll be in Greece," Audrey said.

"I thought it was the week after?" Percy said, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"No, it's definitely that week. I remember because you got all upset when you saw the quidditch schedule."

"Well, now," Percy muttered, his face red. "That can't be quite right." Audrey smiled, but said nothing more.

"I'll go," Harry said.

"Good; Ron, will Hermione?" Ginny turned back to her brother.

"Uh…probably not," Ron admitted, scratching the back of his head.

"Count us in," George said. "I wouldn't miss it for much of anything."

"I'll get you all tickets."

"Is it against the Harpies?" Angelina asked.

"I think so…yeah."

"Do you know if Katie's starting?"

"I don't think so," George said, leaning back. "She would have given us tickets already."

"True…true," Angelina muttered, balancing a piece of cake on the end of a fork.


	15. Chapter 15

Teddy ran around in circles, his hair bright orange

Teddy ran around in circles, his hair bright orange. He wore a black jersey for the game, and he had a little toy broom in his hands. Ginny had got it for him, claiming it would make the little boy look adorable. Bill had Vicky on his shoulders already, dancing around. Vicky was screaming with pleasure. Ron stood off to the side with Angelina and George, blatantly ignoring the children. Harry grabbed Teddy and lifted him up.

"We need to go in," Ron said.

"Does everyone have their tickets?" Angelina asked.

Harry fumbled through his pockets, finally finding his and Teddy's tickets in the inside pocket of his jacket. Teddy held onto his ticket, staring at the print curiously. They entered the stadium and sat down. . Teddy sat on Harry's lap, pointing at everything going on around him.

"Do you think she's going to do it?" Ron asked, preventing Teddy from running into the aisle.

"Yes," Harry said decisively, putting Teddy on the other side of his legs.

"Ginny go win!" Teddy shouted, climbing on top of George.

"You don't?" Harry said.

"Well…she is my little sister, and she is going against some of the toughest beaters in the game," Ron said. "They've downed over twelve chasers this year."

"Ginny's tougher than most chasers; she grew up with six brothers."

"We'll see."

The announcer began speaking, his voice resonating throughout the stadium. Teddy jumped up and down, all excited. Vicky was put on the ground and the two of them screamed with the crowd, grins on their faces. Ron even stood up and cheered for the Weasley.

"She's the only one anyone's going to remember," Ron yelled over the cheer. "The only Weasley!"

"Just watch the game, Ron," Harry yelled back.

The crowd calmed down and sat in their seats.

"Don't hit people with your broomstick, Teddy," Bill said patiently, putting a hand on the small boy's toy.

"If it's getting to be a problem," Harry said, "just let me know and I'll take it from him."

"I just don't want the Harpies' guy in front of us to get angry," Bill said.

"Ah, don't worry about him," Ron said. "Just watch the game."

Ginny had the quaffle already. Harry sat on the edge of his seat, staring at her weave through other chasers and away from the bludgers. She easily got by the keeper and threw it through the hoop. All the Cannons stood up and cheered loudly. She scored six more times in the next fifteen minutes. Everyone was watching Weasley. Everyone was standing. Everyone screamed any time she got the quaffle.

Harry couldn't take his eyes off her. She was so close to breaking another record, to absolutely taking over the league's chaser records, to setting a new precedent, that he didn't want to miss a single pass in fear of missing history. She did not drop any passes. She did not fail to dodge any bludgers. The beaters for the Cannons did a decent job keeping them away from the chasers; Harry couldn't see a single gap in their formation. Everyone was where they needed to be. Everyone did what needed to be done.

"Harry!" Teddy shouted, putting his hands on Harry's knees.

"What do you want, Teddy?" Harry asked, putting his own hands on the small boy's shoulders.

"I want something to eat! I'm hungry."

"Wait, will you?" Harry said, ruffling Teddy's hair.

"I want my sandwich!" Teddy started jumping up and down.

"Just give him his sandwich, Harry," Ron said. "If he gets hungry again later, I'll buy him something if you're too stingy to."

"Fine," Harry said. He reached under his seat for his bag, but couldn't find it. He bent down, taking his eyes off the field for just a second.

"Ginny!"

Harry looked up, startled. Ron had yelled harshly, jumped up from his seat, and spilled his popcorn. Ron would never do that. Unless something serious happened. Harry's heart skipped a beat. What something wrong with Ginny? Ron's face was white. Bill's face was white. George's face was white. Damn it. Something had happened to her.

"What happened?" Harry quickly stood up, trying to see what was going on. The only thing he could see was Ginny's broom gliding through the air, Ginny no where to be found. Panic rose within him. Where could she have gone? Was she on someone else's broom? Had she been caught by one of the referees?

"Where is she?" Harry shouted.

"On the ground," Bill said, his eyes wide.

Harry could not see over the heads of the men in front of him. He stood on the chair, lifted his chin, and still did not see her. She had fallen from almost fifty feet in the air. It was possible she was fine. It was possible she was uninjured. It…it was possible she was fine. Right? He wished she could see her, make sure she was fine. The stadium was silent.

Another Cannon launched himself from the sideline, taking the place of Ginny.

3

Harry stared at the floor. Bill, George, and Ron paced back and forth, all of them with their hands lodged in their pockets. Angelina had returned to the Burrow with Vicky and Teddy, saying she'd be there soon.

If there was one thing Harry did not understand, it was why he was sitting in the hospital again after a Cannon's game. There was no reason for it. Ginny should not have gotten hit. There must have been a break in the formation. If there was one thing the Cannons were known for, it was their Beaters.

"Damn," Hermione said from the other end of the hall. "This is serious, isn't it?" She walked over to them, relatively silent. Harry looked up at her. Her hair was pulled back, heavy bags under her eyes. She looked like she had rolled out of bed.

"Yeah," Ron said, stopping pacing for a moment.

"Is she going to be alright?" Hermione stared at Ron. Harry watched them, silent. He had not seen them together since the last Cannon's game.

"We don't know, yet," Ron replied.

"Oh," Hermione said. She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. Harry wondered if she would fall asleep like that.

"Do you think she'll be alright?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Bill instantly replied. "She's a Weasley; she won't go down without a fight."

"Are Mum and Dad coming?" Ron asked.

"I don't know," Hermione said. "I got word from Angelina after she had dropped Vicky and Teddy off at the cottage. She was going to the Burrow next."

"Mum's going to be in hysterics," George muttered. "Merlin…it isn't going to be pretty."

A healer came down the hallway, a look on his face of intense concentration. He stopped in front of the Weasleys, looked at them, and said, "I take it you're Ginny's brothers?"

All of them nodded in agreement.

"She's awake and has suffered some spinal injury. We don't know the extent of it yet. We've done what we can without further information. We tend to lay off the magic when it gets to spinal cord injuries; the best methods are still the more conventional ways."

"Spinal cord?" Ron said, staring at the healer.

"It's at the C7 vertebrae," the healer said. "She at least broke the vertebrae, maybe another, too, at L4, though to a lesser extent."

"What does that mean?" George said.

"She may lose some movement in her arms."

All of the Weasleys and Harry looked to the ground.

"We secured the internal bleeding, took care of the rest of her broken bones, and healed her cuts and bruises. She wants to see Harry."

Harry looked up. Everyone stared at him. Silent, he stood. Ginny wanted to see him. Not Ron. Not Bill. Not George. Him. Harry. He did not know why; her brothers would be able to comfort her better, convince her that she would be able to get back on a broom and finish breaking records. But…if she loses even some movement in her arms, her quidditch career is over.

"Let us know if she needs anything," Bill said, clapping Harry on the back.


	16. Chapter 16

Ginny was in the bed, her blankets tucked underneath her. She looked at him, her eyes wide. Harry wasn't sure what to say or do.

"Hey," he said, taking a seat next to her.

"I…I need you…I need you to do something for me," she said, her voice low, as if she was scared.

"What is it?" Harry wanted to reach out and hold her hand, or touch her arm, or something. But he knew she would only ask him to stop, so he did not.

"I need you to get my shirt."

"Your shirt?"

"It's in one of the drawers over there." She jerked her head towards the dresser. Harry searched through it and found her quidditch uniform. "The undershirt. Yeah…the black one."

"Is that all?" Harry brought it over, holding the light fabric reverently.

She looked at him, her eyes tortured.

"Can…can you put it on me?" she asked. Her voice trembled.

"Why? Are you sure?"

"Yes. I…I can't do it myself." Her face was red, flushed with either embarrassment or fear – Harry could not tell which.

Harry stood up for ease and pulled the blanket off her. She leaned forward so he could untie the hospital gown. It slid down her shoulders, her arms still in the sleeves. Gently, he slid the shirt over her head. He grabbed her arm to put it in the sleeve.

He stopped, surprised.

"Ginny…" he said softly, looking at her wrist.

She looked away from him, avoiding his gaze. Harry bit his tongue and drew her purposefully scarred arm through the sleeve. The other arm – her left arm – was even more scarred than her right. Some of them were new, too, the scabs from her lacerations not fully healed. He pulled the shirt over her abdomen, careful not to put pressure on her back, and replaced the blanket.

"Thanks," Ginny whispered, tears beginning to overwhelm her. Harry wiped them off her cheek.

"Why didn't you tell me you were cutting?" he said.

"I…I don't know. I didn't want you to know," she said, her breathing becoming unsteady. "I…I thought you…" Her words were eaten by sobs. Harry wiped her tears again and put his hand on the back of her head.

"It's fine," Harry said, "Don't worry about it. We'll get you the help you need. Right now, you need to worry about getting better. So you can assume your role at St. Mungo's."

"Don't tell anyone," she said, her eyes pleading with him more than anything else. "Please don't."

Harry gazed at her for a few seconds, unsure of what he should do. Did Mr. and Mrs. Weasley need to know? Did Hermione? Did anyone? No…not really. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would not be able to help. Hermione was still struggling with the loss of her baby. Her brothers would just overwhelm her needlessly.

"I won't tell your family," he said seriously, a measured hand on her shoulder. Ginny leaned back against her bed, a look of relief washing over her. "Do the doctors know?"

"Yes," she muttered.

Harry stared at her. He knew she had been in pain…but he did not think it was this bad. The thought it was normal. How could he not have noticed?

"I'm tired, Harry, do you think you could leave and let me sleep?"

"Of course."

3

"Where's Ron?" Ginny asked a few days later after almost three hours of talking with her brothers. Harry looked around the room. Had Ron not shown up with the others? He would have sworn he saw Ron come through the door and sit in the corner. But he was nowhere in the room now. It was not like him to ignore his family like this.

Harry slipped from the room, the Weasley brothers having confidence in his ability to solve the mystery. Ron was not in the hallway right outside the room, nor was he in the lavatory or the cafeteria. Mr. Weasley said he had not seen him, and neither had Audrey.

Had he even come, then?

"You might want to check on him," George had said. "I closed both the shops yesterday when I got home last night. I don't know if his owl got lost or not."

Agreeing that George's owl did not have the best track record when it came to delivering owls in a timely fashion, Harry apparated to Ron's apartment. He knocked on the door, as was customary, and stood back.

No one opened the door.

Harry knocked again, maybe thinking that they just did not hear him. He waited. And waited. And waited.

Ron would have seen that the shops were closed by now and returned home, right? He might be out, but when Ron had a day to himself, he tended to spend it in his apartment. Maybe he was sleeping.

"Ron! Ron! What are you doing here?" Harry pounded on the door again.

He heard movement. The door opened.

"What is it, Harry?" Ron asked. His voice was lower than usual. Harry couldn't figure out why that was.

"Why aren't you at the hospital?" Harry said.

"I…I can't go. Hermione's…having…difficulties."

"Why?"

"I really can't get into the specifics now, but she was fired and she's taking it pretty hard."

"Hermione was fired?"

Harry could not believe his ears. How could Hermione – the top of her class and the most brilliant witch at Hogwarts – be fired? Then again, how could she also have difficulty transfiguring a fly? None of it made any sense. She was losing her edge or something. The world was turning upside down.

"Well it isn't just that…it's been a number of things, really. She was struggling with the auror training, and she felt like she failed at that. And she really does not like to fail. And then she took the miscarriage really hard. I…I think she thinks it was her fault. I've told her it wasn't several times...but it doesn't seem to have done any good. Getting fired from her job just made it worse. She…I don't even know anymore. It's like she's losing hope or something, like she thinks she can't do anything." Ron glanced over his shoulder, his tone taking on a nervous resonance. "I've…I've never seen her like this before, Harry. And… and I'm worried about her."

"She'll be alright. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I need a woman. Not my mother. Audrey, maybe. Hermione tends to open up to her. Not Fleur. Not Fleur. She would just make her uncomfortable. Angelina…I don't think she has the…the tact to deal with Hermione right now. Audrey might be your best bet with Ginny incapacitated."

"Ok…I'll see if I can pull her away from Ginny," Harry said.

"Thank you."

"Just relax, ok?"

Ron cracked a slight grin and turned back to his apartment. Harry disapparated.


	17. Chapter 17

For her birthday, Ginny was allowed to go back to the Burrow

For her birthday, Ginny was allowed to go back to the Burrow. Harry had gone ahead to prepare for her. This mainly entailed cleaning. Ron was supposed to tag along, as well, but Hermione was returning from her mother's house in a few days and Ron had to clean their apartment. Harry had been there a couple times in the past few weeks and it had gotten progressively worse; he had his work cut out for him.

"Harry, make sure the bed is stiff," Mr. Weasley said. "She can't lay on soft surfaces."

"I know, Mr. Weasley," Harry said, waving his wand over the bed, firming the mattress. They had a long list of things they needed to comply with, from where she could go (only downstairs) to what she could sit on (straight backed chairs, no padding). As Harry was acquiring and putting the finishing touches on all of these things, he could not help but wonder at the pain she must be in. He could not imagine having to sleep on a stiff bed or sit in a hard chair. A part of him wanted to forget about the regulations and just make everything extraordinarily soft. But he resisted, taking heart that the healers know best.

"Do we have any asparagus?" Mr. Weasley said, consulting the list of preferable foods they were given.

"I do not think so," Harry replied, sitting down on the unyielding mattress. How could anyone sleep in this?

"What about…milk?"

"I think I finished it this morning."

"Yogurt?"

"Does Ginny even like yogurt?"

He heard Mr. Weasley scramble in the kitchen.

"They're here! Harry, hurry up!"

Harry meandered out of Ginny's new room. There was nothing she could stumble on in the hallway or in the sitting room or in the kitchen. They had completely rearranged the house, moving Mr. and Mrs. Weasley upstairs and Ginny downstairs. They completely redid the room, painting it a brighter color and taking out all of Mrs. Weasley's antiques and finding a new place for them – Ginny's room not being large enough to hold them.

"Stand here, out of the way," Mr. Weasley said, pulling Harry next to him.

The door opened and Charlie held the door open. Ginny walked in, her back perfectly straight and her arms perfectly still.

"You're in our room, Gin," Mr. Weasley said, gently laying a hand on her arm.

"Ok," Ginny said. Harry thought she sounded like she was in pain. Even the way she moved, with the ever so slight grimace, betrayed her feeling. She walked through the kitchen and into the sitting room. She sat down carefully on a chair – a kitchen chair Harry moved in there for her. Her family followed after her. Charlie sat across the room from her. Bill sat next to her. Harry sat on her other side.

"How are you doing?" Mrs. Weasley asked, handing her a cup of water.

"No thanks, mum," she said, shaking her head. Her hands were trembling.

"Do you want me to hold it for you?" Harry whispered. She shook her head, her cheeks red.

"The others should be here soon," Mrs. Weasley said, beginning to bustle about. "I told everyone to be here at one…and its now quarter past."

"Hermione isn't going to be here, is she?" Ginny asked.

"Ah, I'm not sure," Mrs. Weasley replied. The doorbell rang and Mr. Weasley answered it. Hermione came into the sitting room.

"Happy birthday, Ginny," Hermione said, grinning, and handed her a bag.

"What is it?" Ginny asked, peeking into the bag.

"You can't look in it, yet. Ron needs to be here."

"You collaborated?"

"No. But I told him I was getting you a gift and that he had to sign the card. So he should be here, at the very least."

"Don't make me laugh; it hurts too much," Ginny said, stifling her grin.

Soon, everyone else arrived. Ron hugged Hermione and then sat next to her, refusing to let go of her. Angelina and George burst into the room and settled down next to Ron. Audrey and Percy stood against the wall, neither of them eager to be situated. It was clear to Harry that both of them were thinking of the ministry in one way or another; Audrey with the Department of Magical Catastrophes and Percy with pleasing the Wizengamot. Percy put a small parcel in front of Ginny.

"Happy birthday," he said severely, and then returned to his position besides Audrey.

"Bonjour!" Fleur said, entering the sitting room. "Bill gave you your present, no?"

"I have it," Ginny said.

"Ah, good. It's good to see you, Hermione!" Fleur said, waving to the woman.

Harry could see Hermione stiffen and look uncomfortable at the sight of the visibly pregnant woman. Hermione forced a grin and nodded silently.

"I think I need to lay down," Ginny said, standing up.

"Do you need any help?" Mrs. Weasley asked, quickly coming to her side.

"I'll help her, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, standing up next to Ginny. She walked to her room, Harry after her. Harry closed the door.

"Do you need to change?" He asked.

"No…I just want to sleep." Ginny laid down on the bed. Harry carefully pulled the blanket over her body.

"Thanks," Ginny said, closing her eyes.

"Do you need to take your brace off?"

"I'm supposed to wear it all the time," she said, closing her eyes.

"Do you need anything else?"

"No."

"Alright, good night."

Harry left Ginny, already asleep, and returned to the others.


	18. Chapter 18

"Potter? Harry Potter?" a woman said, coming up to his desk.

"Yes?" Harry looked up and put some of his paper work in folders.

"Come with me." She turned around and started briskly walking towards the elevator. Harry hurried to catch up with her.

"Do you mind me asking where we're going?"

"You're wanted in the Department of Magical Catastrophes."

"What for?"

"I'm just the messenger, Mr. Potter, I really don't know."

The pair of them surfaced on the level of magical catastrophes. The woman led Harry to a conference room. He entered alone and took one of two seats still empty. He could see Percy near the front of the room, a piece of parchment in front of him and a quill in his hand.

"We're just waiting for one more, Nick?" a bald man sitting next to Percy asked. Harry saw Nick for the first time, sitting in a corner. Nick nodded.

Before too long another man entered the room. He was lithe, blonde, and distinctively insidious. It was clear he had been a Slytherin, and Harry's heart skipped a beat. He hadn't seen this man since their graduation from Hogwarts together.

"Malfoy," Nick said loudly, "take a seat next to Potter, please."

"Of course," Malfoy said in his lethargic drawl.

"Alright, here's the problem. A wizard has blown up a muggle residence. The muggles are playing it off as a pipe explosion or something silly like that. These are the pictures," the bald man said. On the screen appeared three images of a charred and broken house. "The wizard got away, we can't find him. That's where you aurors come in. This is a high profile case. Otto Swank has been in Azkaban before for muggle harassment. Most likely, he will attack again. Nick?"

"Potter, assemble a crew and go to London to track him down."

Harry stared at Nick, silent. Nick wanted him to assemble a crew for a high profile case? Who would ask him to do such a thing? He had not even been an auror for a year. How could they expect him to have the ability and experience to lead a successful mission?

"I can't do it, sir," Harry said. "I don't have the experience or ability. I'm not going to put my crew in jeopardy like that."

The room was silent for a moment. Harry could almost feel Malfoy smirking at him.

"Fine. Malfoy, do you think you can do it?"

Harry's heart stopped. His stomach soured. Malfoy? Malfoy couldn't be capable. He only just emerged from training last month.

"Yes, sir," Malfoy said, grinning.

Harry looked at Malfoy, unable to form any words. Malfoy just smiled at him.

"How does it feel, Potter?" Malfoy asked. "How does it feel to have the spotlight taken from you? You hate it, don't you?"

"You're crew is going to die," Harry said softly. "You're going to kill valuable aurors because you're too pompous to admit you don't have the skills."

"What are you talking about, Potter? Unlike you, I actually pay attention in classes."

Malfoy stood up and left. Everyone else followed his example except for Harry and Nick.

"I respect your decision, Harry," Nick said quietly. "But I cannot condone you minimalizing other aurors. If I hear you badmouth another one of your coworkers, regardless of your personal or house grudges, I will discipline you. Understood?"

Harry looked up at Nick, his mouth agape.

"Are you telling me you think Malfoy is capable?"

"More capable than you, for sure."

With the dagger in his back, Harry watched Nick leave.

3

Malfoy haunted Harry's thoughts. Damn it. It was the only thing he could think about. Ginny was pushed out of his mind. Hermione was forgotten. Ron was minimalized. It was just Malfoy. Malfoy. Malfoy. Malfoy.

There was no way Malfoy could be better than Harry – no way. Harry was the one who defeated Voldemort. He was the one that found the Horcruxes. He was the one that lead the DA. He was the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets. He was the one who had done everything. And Malfoy. What had Malfoy done? Be the golden boy of Slytherin? Attempt to take down Dumbledore? Join the Death Eaters? What was that compared to Harry? It was nothing – like a piece of coal next to a diamond. There was no excuse for this.

The only difference between the two of them was that Malfoy was pompous. He was ridiculous. He was being irresponsible. At least Harry had the guts to decline the offer. But not the wonderful Draco Malfoy. Oh, no, not him. He took it full on, no reservations, and was right now halfway through his preparations. How could Harry let this happen? No, it wasn't Harry's fault. How could Nick let this happen?

These thoughts raced around Harry's mind, occupied his mind, invaded his life. Sitting in the Burrow, it was all he could think about. Filling out paperwork, it was all he could think about. Everywhere he looked, he saw Malfoy smirking. Everything he did, there was Malfoy. He could not escape it.

Wanting validation for his suspicions, he got a copy of the auror examinations. There, he was sure, he would find that Malfoy was not suitable for leading a crew. He looked at the chart, found Malfoy, and stared at it.

He had scored high, higher than most of the others, but not the highest. He was ranked as fifth. But there, in bold next to his name where all the comments were, was the golden ticket, the magic words.

"Great leadership ability."

Harry stared at those three words, silent. No. It was impossible. He had tortured him and many other students at Hogwarts; how could the infamous Draco Malfoy be a decent leader?

Quickly he flipped through the charts and found his scores. He had scored the highest of all those tested. He grinned at them, taking pride in his work. But there, next to his name, was the plague.

"Does not work well with teams. Needs leadership training."

Harry felt as if someone had punched him in the gut. Those words sealed his fate. Every auror looking at that will see it. It will deter them from asking him to join their crew. It will prevent him from fulfilling his expectations. He resented it. All through Hogwarts, he had worked with Ron and Hermione, how could he not work well with others? He had lead the DA, headed up the hunt for the Horcruxes. How could he not have leadership ability?

He put the scores back in the filing cabinet and went to the Burrow.


	19. Chapter 19

"Damn it, Ginny," Ron said angrily

"Damn it, Ginny," Ron said angrily. "Just eat the damn sandwich!"

"I'm not hungry, Ron."

"Please eat it. You know the healers don't think you're eating enough," Harry said.

"You know I can't. The medicine they're making me take makes me sick."

"It isn't like we're asking you to eat a steak; it's a peanut butter and jelly sandwich."

"Please stop," Ginny said. "All I want to do is sleep. I'm exhausted."

"You need to replenish your energy from rehabilitation," Hermione said, putting a glass of milk on the tray in front of her. "At least drink the milk."

"If I vomit, you're cleaning it up," Ginny said bitterly. She leaned over and sucked the milk out of the cup with a straw. Ron held the sandwich in front of her.

"I'm not hungry," she said obstinately.

"Just eat the sandwich!" Ron was red in the face, his ears purple. He looked like he was going to hit her.

"Ron, just leave her alone," Hermione said. "Besides, we're late for dinner."

"Fine. Bye." Ron disapparated, Hermione shortly after her. Harry sat down next to Ginny. This had been the routine for a week, now. Ron and or Hermione would bring Ginny home, try and get to eat something, fail, and then leave.

"You want me to hold the sandwich for you?" Harry asked, picking up the discarded PB and J. Ginny sighed and nodded.

"I hate this," she said and took a bite from it.

"I know."

She finished the sandwich quickly, except for the last bite Harry held it by. She never asked him to put it in her mouth and would refuse when he suggested it.

"So how did it go today?" Harry asked, putting the refused leftovers on the plate.

"I was told that when the swelling goes down some more, I'll be able to move my hands and wrists."

"That's good."

"I'm not going to be able to complete my contract." She stared at the wall silently, as if she was disappointed.

"I thought you wanted out of it, anyway?"

"I did…do…but not like this…there's a clause in all the Cannon contracts that says if you break all the records for your respective position, then you're free from the contract and they pay the rest of your contract in full."

"Really? I never heard that before."

"It encourages good playing, good practices, and good improvement."

"So you wanted to go out with a splash."

Ginny grunted in agreement.

"What are you going to do when you're done?"

"It…it depends on the versatility I have with my hands. If…if I can't…if I don't have a strong grip, I really can't work at St. Mungo's. I'm not sure what I'll do. I need to think about it."

He looked at Harry. To him, she looked a bit lost. It made sense, really. All of her plans had been spoiled, all her dreams and aspirations thrown out with the garbage. All she had left was her intelligence to rely on to get a job. She could not do anything physical. She could not do anything requiring manipulation of small objects. She was limited.

"They said I'm going to have to teach my hands how to write again," she said. "That's assuming I can hold a pen, though. If not, I'm going to give me a dictation quill."

"Like the quick quotes quill?"

"No," Ginny quickly said. "Nothing like that. It goes word for word."

"Are you going to be able to hold your wand?"

Ginny's expression turned to one of horror. Harry could see the tears begin to well up behind her eyes. She was panicking.

"I'm sure you'll be able to," Harry said quickly, trying to stem her fears. "I wouldn't worry about it."

"Damn it!" Ginny shouted, her voice cracking. Tears began to fall from her eyes. "If I can't hold a quill, how can I hold a wand?"

"Ginny, it'll be fine," Harry said, putting his hands firmly on her shoulders. She looked at him in the eyes, not shying away from him even the slightest bit. "We'll figure something out, ok?" She nodded, but didn't look convinced. "Get some sleep – you must be tired."

"Good night," she said softly.

"Good night, Gin," he replied, gently closing her door.


	20. Chapter 20

"Potter, get in the conference room," Malfoy said, coming up to his desk.

"What?" Harry couldn't believe his ears; was Malfoy recruiting him for his crew?

"You're coming with me. Get in the conference room for briefing. Now."

Harry didn't move. Malfoy leaned against the desk, pieces of his blond hair coming loose from his gel.

"Look, Potter, I'm about as ecstatic as you about this arrangement. But here's the deal – you are the best tracker we have that isn't on a mission already. My options are scarce. I want you. If you cannot put our housing feuds behind us, that's fine. Come anyway. It starts in three minutes. If you want to give up the opportunity to be involved in a high-profile case, that's up to you."

Malfoy turned around and left Harry sitting alone. Harry stared after him, silent. Was he serious? Did he really just tell Harry it did not matter what house they had been? That it did not matter that he had been a total jerk to him, Ron, and Hermione in school? Is that what had just happened?

No, what had just happened was a truce. A truce for the sake of the department. A truce for the sake of muggles.

Harry stood up and went to the conference room. He couldn't give up the opportunity for a high profile case.

3

"I'm going on a mission in two days," Harry said, offering Ginny a turkey sandwich.

"What?" She ignored the sandwich.

"I'm going on a mission."

"How long?"

"I…I don't know. We aren't sure. It depends on how quick it takes us to find this guy."

"Who else is on the crew?"

"Three others."

"Who, Harry?" Ginny was stern.

"The disguise aurors are Jake Johnson and Owen Errant."

"And the other tracker?"

"I can't remember."

"That's bogus. Who is it?"

Harry looked at her suspiciously.

"You don't want to know," Harry said.

"Cho Chang?"

"No," Harry said, trying not to laugh.

"Then who?"

"Draco Malfoy."

"What?" Ginny threw her arms up. "Draco? Are you kidding? Who would let

him lead a mission?"

"Calm down, Ginny. You're going to hurt yourself."

"I'm not letting you go," Ginny said.

"Ginny, please."

"He's a Death Eater!"

"He isn't a Death Eater."

"Harry, you can't be thinking about trusting him."

"It isn't like that, Gin."

"Who's the chief?"

"Malfoy."

"Merlin, Harry! You can't be thinking about going."

"I don't have a choice. This is a high profile case and I'm the best tracker available. I cannot allow my personal grudge to get in the way of ministry business."

"Harry…"

"Don't worry, Ginny. Really, I'll be fine."

"If you die, Harry, I'm going to personally resurrect you and kill you again,"

Ginny said, her face straight.

"I promise you I won't die."


	21. Chapter 21

"Harry, I hear you know a spell that can help us track by magic?" Malfoy said, sitting in the small room with his crew.

"Yeah," Harry said. He took off his glasses and cast the spell. He put on his glasses. He could see everyone's trail except for Malfoy's.

"Go and see if you can find him. When you have his location, come back. Wear your cloak.

"Owen, I need you to go with him. Jake, go meet with the muggle police and gather as much information about the event as you can. Harry, you might want to start at the building and work your way from there; the trail might still be there. Chances are, he doesn't know how to hide it. Again, Harry, wear your cloak. I want you to be ready to use magic, cover for Owen and stuff. I'll stay here and monitor you guys."

"Ok," Harry said. He put on his cloak and followed Owen down the street to the sight.

In the charred remains of the building, he saw nothing. There were no trails but Owen's, the light green path distinctive to his wand. He walked around, careful not to make any noise or leave any prints. There was only a single drop of gelatinous pink. Maybe the convict did know how to hide his magic.

He hadn't seen that trail before and it was what he expected for a thirteen inch yew with dragon heartstring.

"Did you find anything, Harry?" Owen whispered harshly.

"Yeah; but it isn't enough to find him on."

"Is there anything else?"

"No."

3

Malfoy stared into the mirror, looking at himself. All his crew had returned.

None of them spoke.

"What are we going to do?" Owen asked. "Harry couldn't find a trail."

"I know what it'll look like," Harry said. "But there wasn't a trail going away from it."

"Ok…Owen, go to the underground and figure out where we can find this guy."

"Which one? Muggle or wizard?"

"You go to the wizard. Jake, go to the muggle. They have no leads, right?"

"They're attributing it to an accident," Jake sighed. "They aren't pursuing anything."

"Harry, look up all possible wizards who might have a similar magical print."

"Wait…How do you do that?"

"Here."

Malfoy tossed him a thick volume.

"Every wand is registered. This is everyone in the area who is legally allowed to use magic. Something we might find is that it was an underage wizard or something else. If that's the case, then we need to expand the search. Right now, we need to make sure its Swank who did it."

Harry started pouring through the volume. The two disguise aurors left the building. Malfoy stared at them in his mirror.

"I'm glad you decided to put our school feuds behind us," Malfoy said. Harry ignored him. He didn't want to talk right now. The only thing that mattered was work. Malfoy resumed gazing into the glass. Harry wrote the names of all the people with a heavy wood and dragon heartstring. There were only twelve people in the book.

"Here," Harry said, handing Malfoy the list.

"Mmm…interesting," Malfoy said. "Will you look through the underage file?" Malfoy handed him a slender folder with only three sheets of paper in it. It took Harry three minutes to determine there were no underage wizards who had the right kind of wand.

"Draco, the muggles don't know a thing," Jake said.

"Ok," Malfoy said, turning to his glass. Harry could see Owen talking with people in red robes. "He's going to get himself killed. Jake, go and get him. He's just down the street." Nodding, Jake ran down the stairs.

3

"Owen, don't do that again," Malfoy said. "I can't believe you could be so stupid as to actually drink with him. Never drink with any of these men. Understood?"

Owen nodded and leaned back against his sleeping bag.

"What did you find out?" Malfoy asked.

"He's staying at 289 Harrow Way."

"Does it have a secret keeper?"

"No, but he's living in the secret basement. It's concealed by magic, so it'll be obvious to Harry."

"Potter, put on the cloak and go down there. Get him and bring him to the ministry."

"And if I can't?"

"It doesn't matter. I know you can and I know you won't die. You're going alone, so don't worry about anything but what's in front of you. Go get him and bring him to the dungeons of the ministry. Not the auror department. Understood?"

Harry nodded and whipped his cloak over his shoulders.

"Be quick."

3

The lights were off. The streets were wet. Harry slunk through the shadows, careful to prevent any light from creating a shadow off his invisible body. The door was locked. He made quick work of it.

Nothing was in the foyer but a thick layer of dust. He was sure this was the right place. Silent, he stared at the ground, trying to pick out traces of magic, especially the pink ones. There was only a faint trail of purple. He followed it into the kitchen. It dashed under the table and never came out.

The dust on the floor by the legs of the table was disturbed, as if someone had moved the table. Harry flicked his wand at the table and it slid to the side. A large spot of purple and pink magic lit the floor. He pointed his wand at the puddle and a door flung open.

He waited. Silent. Still. Breathless. Would anyone come out of the door? Would anyone notice?

No one emerged from the abyss.

Harry descended down the steep steps, one by one, no light, no guidance, no nothing. He dared not cast light in the gloom. His eyes led him by the thick pink trail left by Otto's wand. He hit the bottom – a dirt covered basement – and traveled along a narrow hallway.

"Who's there?"

A light burst through the hallway from the other end. Harry flattened himself against the wall. He looked into the light and saw the disheveled Otto Swank, his brown hair messy and his eyes blotchy. Harry would have bet he had been drinking.

Without a word from Harry, the man's wand went flying and he collapsed on the ground, petrified and immobile. Harry crept forward, silent, and waited for anyone else to come. Another man came. Harry made quick work of him. Four more came. The same result. There was a pile of men at the end of the hallway. A few more minutes and Harry determined no one was there. He walked forward to the pile of men rather quickly, trying to figure out how he was going to get all of them back to the ministry.

Malfoy, Owen, and Jake all apparated by his side when he got to them.

"Owen, take two men – you're the biggest. Jake take one. Harry take one. I'll take one. All of us will apparate to the ministry. Ok?"

Harry leaned over and picked up Otto. They disapparated.


	22. Chapter 22

"I'm going to be brutally honest with you," Nick said, crossing his arms and staring at the crew who had just recovered five known criminals

"I'm going to be brutally honest with you," Nick said, crossing his arms and staring at the crew who had just recovered five known criminals. "I'm incredibly impressed. Not only did you do it in almost record time – three days – but you also went above and beyond your requirements and expectations. Malfoy, you did a good job picking these fellows up. Harry, you did good with the wand. Jake, you have marvelous communication skills. Owen, you need to work on communicating with drunkards without becoming one. Other than that, you did brilliantly."

"Thank you, sir," Malfoy said. The others remained silent, identifying that this was not the place for them to talk.

"Jake and Owen, you are dismissed," Nick said. The two disguising aurors left.

"You two – I'm officially teaming you two up."

"What?" Malfoy shouted. "No! No way in hell am I working with him!"

"Hey, quiet down, Malfoy!" Nick replied with equal volume.

Harry bit his tongue.

"Harry has brash impulsivity of a Gryffindor and you have the calculating intelligence of a Slytherin."

"He was a Death Eater," Harry said.

"Potter's a pompous idiot!"

"That's why you need to keep him in line, Malfoy. Listen to what I'm saying, will you? Potter, I swear to God that if I ever hear you refer to Malfoy as a Death Eater again, I'm going to slug you myself. And if I ever hear you insulting Potter, same thing."

"I don't want to," Malfoy said. "I can't."

"You will. I've already signed off on the papers. Where one is weak, the other is strong. You both know that when you're on a mission, you can't fight. I also know that your imminent dislike for each other will speed along your missions. I'm not saying you need to be buddy-buddy. What I am saying is that you need to tolerate each other and identify that you work well together. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," both of them muttered.

"Malfoy, go fill out the paperwork for this mission. Harry, wait here. Bresnen wants a word with you." Nick and Malfoy left Harry sitting alone at the conference table. Bresnen entered the room, his hands clasped behind his back.

"I hear you declined to lead this last mission," Bresnen said.

"Yes, sir."

"Why?"

"I didn't feel capable."

Bresnen leaned on the table and stared at Harry from three inches away. Harry

felt as if he was searching for something, whether it be some kind of strength or some kind of flaw. Harry didn't really know. He didn't move under the man's gaze.

"I can respect that," Bresnen said. "It's important to know your limitations. How would you have handled that mission?"

"I…I don't know," Harry said, confused by the question.

"I'm going to tell you something, and you may not like it. Are you ready?"

Harry nodded.

"Draco Malfoy is one of the strongest leaders you will ever come across. While with him, learn from him. See what he does first, ask him questions if you have any. Do not, under any circumstances, let a mission with Draco go by without learning something from him. I know you were enemies at Hogwarts. I know you're from rival houses, but try to ignore that, will you? Both of you are struggling for recognition within the ministry. If you think he isn't observing you, you're a nutcase. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Alright, now go home and take a nice shower."

3

"I see you survived," Ginny said.

"Much to your disappointment, I see," Harry said, sitting on the couch.

"Teddy's going to be here soon," Mrs. Weasley said, coming into the room and removing all glass things from the table. The last time he was there, he broke nearly all the cups on the low surfaces. Harry watched her, amused.

"Congratulations, Harry!" Mr. Weasley said, entering the room. "I heard what your crew did. Amazing. Simply amazing. Even more so because you were a bunch of rookies! There are high expectations for you and Mr. Malfoy, Harry. Very high."

Harry stared at the floor. Him and Mr. Malfoy? Mmm…Harry wasn't so sure.

"Malfoy? I keep hearing his name, but I can't imagine you working with him, Harry," Ginny said.

"Neither can I," Harry murmured.

"It can't be that bad," Mr. Weasley said. "Especially if Nick thinks you work well together. He's the best auror director I've seen in a long time."

"How about we don't get into this now?" Harry said.

"Harry!" Teddy screamed, coming into the room. He vaulted onto Harry's lap and wrapped his skinny arms around Harry's neck. His round face became very serious and he stared at Harry. "Do you have Remmy? I want him back now."

Shit.

Harry's stomach dropped. All the stuff he had brought with him on the trip had stayed in the apartment. He had lost everything but his wand and cloak. Most of the stuff had been inconsequential, like his sleeping bag and toothbrush. But…This was irreplaceable and unforgivable.

"You don't have him?" Teddy's eyes widened, his bottom lip quivered. "You lost Remmy!" Tears started pouring out of Teddy's eyes and began sobbing.

"Teddy…I…I didn't…I didn't mean to…I mean…I didn't lose him…"

Teddy didn't listen, but continued crying.

"Come here, Teddy," Mrs. Weasley said, picking up the small boy. "I'm sure Harry will find it soon."

"W-w-will he ha-have to c-c-clean his r-room?" Teddy asked, stifling sobs.

"Of course he will. In fact, he'll have to clean the whole house."

Teddy wiped the tears off his face.

"Now why don't you go play with some blocks?"

Nodding, Teddy left the sitting room and went into the other room.

"How could you, Harry?" Mrs. Weasley snapped at him. "How could you lose the only stuffed animal that his parents gave him? The only gift? Merlin! How could you be so inconsiderate?"

"It wasn't my fault! The mission was only three days! I was constantly doing stuff. I didn't think to grab it when I went to capture Otto. Forgive me for doing my job!"

"Forgive you? I'm not the one who needs to forgive you. Teddy's the one who needs to forgive you."

"Look…I'll go and see if I can get it tomorrow."

"You'd better."


	23. Chapter 23

"Look…Nick…I know this means nothing to you, but I need to get that stuffed animal back," Harry said, pleaded, with the director.

"No, I'm sorry, Harry, but rules are rules. The place you were at is at the bottom of the list for clearings. What's there is there until it gets cleared."

"When's it getting cleared?"

"If you're lucky, the end of the month. You'll be notified when it happens," Nick said. "Tell your godson I'm sorry."

"He won't understand."

Harry disapparated and picked up a toy wand for Teddy. Maybe that would divert his attention for awhile.

3

"Hey, Harry, I have a question," Ginny said, trying to grasp and release a stress ball. She could almost completely squish the thing with her left hand, but her right hand would barely hold it.

"What is it?" he asked, picking up one of the squishy balls on the table by her bed.

"Can you pick up Percy a birthday present for me? I know mum'll just tell him what I got him, and Ron won't get a good one."

"What do you want me to get?"

"A necktie. A muggle one. A good one, too, not those lame ones Ron wears."

"Ron doesn't wear neck ties," Harry said.

"Oh…well…I suppose that's why he doesn't wear good ones."

"You don't know what a necktie is, do you?" Harry asked.

"Of course I do," Ginny said. "It's…formal dress wear."

"Ok, you got that much right."

"That's all I know."

"Are you sure Percy would want one?"

"He's has a collection; I've just never seen it."

"Necktie or bowtie?"

"There's a difference?"

Her brows furrowed and she looked at him. Harry couldn't help but grinning; there was something about her when she was confused that tickled him.

"Don't worry about it, Gin. I'll find him something," Harry said.

"Are you getting him anything?"

"I didn't even know his birthday was coming up."

"Well, if you want any ideas, let me know. I have a few fallbacks hidden in my drawer in case someone forgets. Usually it's Ron or Dad."

"Alright," Harry said, still grinning.

Ginny went back to squishing the ball. It was good to see her returning to her usual self. Her hair had grown out and the black dye faded. It was red again. She was still a little skittish when Harry touched her unexpectedly, but other than that, she seemed comfortable.

3

"Harry Potter?" Nick's assistant said, coming up to Harry's desk.

"Yeah?"

"Your things from the last mission can be claimed downstairs at the service desk."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Everything?"

"Everything."

"Even a little stuffed animal?"

"Do I look like I know the specifics?"

Harry stood up and flung himself into the elevator. He had three minutes before the service desk closed for the night.

"Ah, Harry," Mr. Weasley said, stepping onto the elevator.

"Hello, Mr. Weasley," Harry said, leaning against the back wall. Silently, he willed the elevator to go faster. Two mintues….two minutes to retrieve Remmy or he'd have to wait all weekend to get the damn thing.

"How's your day been?"

"Oh, well, I just found out my stuff came in from the last mission so I'm going down there now to try and claim it before the service desk closes."

"It looks like you're out of luck, Harry," Mr. Weasley said, trying not to chuckle.

There was one minute. The doors flung open and Harry threw himself down the hallway.

"Hey! Darren!" Harry shouted, stopping the old, bald man from leaving.

"What, Harry? I want to go home."

"I need my things. Quick. Then I'll leave you alone."

Darren gazed at his watch. He had half a minute before his shift was officially up. He reached into the bin of bags and pulled out Harry's. Before Harry could say anything, the man disapparated.

Harry poured the contents of the bag on the floor. His toothbrush, his sleeping bag, his socks, his clothes….and Remmy. He sighed and threw all of it back into the sack. Teddy was coming over that weekend and he didn't want to disappoint the boy.

3

"Wow…Ginny…I…Thank you…I…I really like it," Percy said, his voice strained. "I've…never seen one quite like it." He held up the metallic blue necktie.

Ginny glared at Harry. Harry was too busy playing with Teddy to notice. Ever since he had forgiven Harry, Teddy hadn't left his godfather alone. By seven, Teddy was sleeping on the couch and Harry was able to function as a fully grown adult.

"So, Hermione," Ginny asked, "What are your plans?"

"I think I'm going to try and get another job at the ministry," she said, "I heard there was an opening in Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures."

"Going to work with Luna?" Ginny asked mischievously. Harry watched the exchange with some curiosity. He knew Luna had matured a lot since their Hogwarts days, but every time he heard the woman's name, he could not forget the girl on the train reading the Quibbler upside down.

"Errr…well…I think the position I'm looking at is not in her jurisdiction."

"I don't think Hermione would be happy searching for the latest whatchamacallit in the middle of a forest," Ron said decisively, crossing his arms.

"You know, Luna's already discovered three new species that were never known to exist," Ginny said. Harry always found it amusing when she got defensive.

"And what has she got to show for it? A few bite marks and a notepad?" Ron scoffed.

"I'm tired," Ginny said, carefully getting up from her chair. "I'll see you all in the morning." Harry let her go alone.


	24. Chapter 24

Ginny was silent, staring at her hands. Over the course of three months, nothing much had changed. Her left hand could make a strong fist, but her right could barely hold an empty cup. Her grip was weak. She knew it, too, and it crushed her.

Harry sat next to her, respecting her silence. This revelation had been a long time coming. He had seen her left hand rapidly improve while her right remained stagnant. He just wished there was some other way. Ginny would have to relearn all her magic – all her spells and all her movements. She needed to teach herself how to write with her left hand. She needed to become more dependent on the left hand.

To be honest, Harry didn't know what she would do. All she had talked about was St. Mungo's. About how when her quidditch contract was up, she would work there. About how she would research memories and figure out a way to reinvigorate the obliviated mind. Harry felt like he should say something.

"You can still work at St. Mungo's."

She responded with silence.

"You can still do all the spells and stuff with your left hand."

"Harry…it isn't just the spells. It's the potions, too. How I can adequately measure out small amounts of ingredients if one hand won't grasp a jar and the other won't stop shaking?"

It was true. Her left hand tended to shake a lot.

"You're intelligent. You'll find a way."

"Who will hire an unsteady hand for precision work, Harry?" The anger in her tone intensified. She looked at him, the pain in her eyes so penetrating he felt like he was going to cry. It broke him.

"The doctors say I need to get a new job. Just to get out of the house," Ginny said. "I don't want to work for Ron or George."

"Do you have anything in mind?"

"I was thinking about the _Prophet_," she said. Harry could see her trepidation and excitement. The pain in her eyes briefly ebbed away.

"That sounds good," Harry said, deciding to support her. He had no idea if she was a good writer or anything, but if she thought she could do it, then why not? He had no reason to doubt her.

"Really? You think it's a good idea?" She sounded surprised.

"If it's something you want to do, then why not? At least apply for the job. If they want you, then they want you."

"Well…I need to get my handwriting under control first," she admitted.

"Then get started," Harry said. Grinning, Ginny nodded.

"Thank you, Harry," she said softly.

3

"Look at him, Harry," Ginny said, standing over Fleur's shoulder. Harry followed Ginny's instruction and saw the little baby, hardly five days old, sleeping in his mother's arms. He had the signature red Weasley hair and had heard he had his father's deep green eyes. Bill stood not too far away, grinning at his son.

"When was he born?" Harry asked.

"November fifteenth," Ginny said, gently running her hand over his little hairy head.

"Do you want to hold him, Harry?" Fleur asked.

"No; I'll just drop him," Harry said.

"Oh, it isn't that bad," Bill said, "Ron already dropped him and he's fine."

"No, really, I don't want you having a stupid kid to be on my head," Harry said.

"How'd your mission go?" Ginny asked.

"The usual. We got there, set up, went out collecting information, came back, went out again, came back, went out again, and then caught the guys."

"It took you almost a full week this time," Bill said.

"Malfoy had a slight problem with one of the disguise aurors. They wouldn't listen to him. If it wasn't my crew, I might have found it amusing. I thought Malfoy handled it well, though."

"So you and Malfoy are on good terms?" Fleur asked, gently rocking Dominique.

"I wouldn't say that. We know when we can be on bad terms, if that makes any sense. On the field, we have no choice but to be amiable. We both take notes and fight when we get home."

The last fight they had had ended in Harry pinned against the wall with a wand aimed at his throat. Nick had to come and split it up. Malfoy and Harry hadn't talked outside of duty since then. No one else needed to know that, though.

"So long as you don't kill each other," Ginny said, "I don't really care."

"Why? You have a soft spot for Malfoy?" Harry teased.

"No, I just…never mind," Ginny said, shaking her head.

"What was it?" Harry pressed.

"It was nothing."

"Oh, come on, you can't do that."

"Just leave it alone, will you?"

"As you wish."

"I'd better put Nick to bed," Bill said, taking the little boy from Fleur.

"You know I do not like that name."

"What else am I supposed to call him?"

"I do not know; figure it out."

"I'd better be getting back to the Burrow," Harry said. "I'll see you guys later. G'night, Dominique."


	25. Chapter 25

"Harry! Harry! Harry!"

Teddy jumped on the end of Harry's bed, his turquoise head bobbing up and down.

"Harry! Harry! Harry!"

"What, Teddy?"

"It's Christmas! It's Christmas!"

"Yeah, Ted?"

"Yeah!"

"For real?"

"For real!" Teddy continued jumping up and down. Harry reached onto his end table and grabbed his glasses. He was wearing red and green Christmas pajamas. Wisely, no one had put his presents at the end of his bed. In fact, they hadn't been put in his room at all.

"Where are my presents, Teddy?"

"I don't know! Come on! Wake up! It's Christmas!"

"Alright." Harry pulled himself out of his bed, fumbled around in a drawer for a shirt, and went downstairs, Teddy riding on his shoulders. Outside, the ground was blanketed with a thick white snow. He could see George, Angelina, Ron, and Hermione already out side making the annual snowman. The scent of cinnamon buns was overwhelming.

"Ah, Harry, nice to see you awake," Mrs. Weasley said, quickly putting him in a chair. Teddy climbed onto the chair next to him.

"What times is it?" Harry asked, helping himself to a delectable Christmas breakfast.

"Almost noon," Mrs. Weasley said. "We're still waiting on Ginny and Bill."

"Ginny's still not up?" Harry looked around, surprised. He could see Mr. Weasley sitting in the living room by the Christmas tree, but that was it.

"I'm up, I'm up," he heard Ginny mumble. She sat down next to him, grimacing. Recently, they had switched the hard brace she had been wearing for a more lenient cloth one, and Ginny hadn't taken too kindly to the switch. Every morning she woke up in pain. She swigged from a small flask she kept with her. It had been issued by the hospital, containing pain potion or so he had been told.

"Merry Christmas, Ginny!" Teddy shouted.

"Merry Christmas, Ted," Ginny replied, a whole lot less enthusiastic than the little boy.

"Is there anything I can do to help you?" Harry asked. It always made him uncomfortable to see Ginny uncomfortable. Despite their relationship being on a hiatus, he couldn't help but love the woman.

"No thanks. I'll be fine," Ginny said, snatching the last cinnamon bun when she saw George enter.

"Oh, come on, Gin," he said, pretending to be offended. "How could you take my breakfast?"

"Get over it," Ginny replied, her mouth full of pastry.

"Nothin's changed," George muttered, patting his sister's head. Ginny swatted him away. The troop from outside came in, snow clinging to their clothes, hair, and boots. Mrs. Weasley pointed her wand at them and the snow melted into a pot. They all sat at the table.

"So, Gin, how was the party last night?" Ron asked, dipping his finger in the frosting that was left on the plate.

"I didn't go to the party," Ginny said, adding sugar to her coffee.

"Then where were you?" Ron asked, getting in his protective-brother mode.

"I needed to do some last minute things to meet a deadline," Ginny said, stirring her coffee.

"You were up until midnight working?" Mrs. Weasley said. "I don't think so."

"You can ask Dennis, if you want," Ginny said.

"Oh, so you were with Dennis?" George asked jokingly.

"He's got a girlfriend, you know," Ginny said.

"Oh, so you know about his personal life?"

"No. I spend all the day with the guy, what do you want us to talk about? Zebras? I don't think I could get him to talk about anything amusing even if I tried." Ginny sipped her coffee with her left hand. Her elbow collided with Harry's and her coffee spilt all over the table. Harry was up quicker than anyone else, mopping up the hot coffee with some napkins.

"You ok, Gin?" Harry asked, quickly trying to wipe the coffee off her shirt.

"Yeah, thanks. I think I'd better go change," Ginny said, standing up.

"Err…yeah," Harry said, watching her go. When did he become such a klutz?

Ron, Hermione, George, and Angelina were staring at him when he turned around. He wasn't sure why. It wasn't like that was the first time anyone had spilled coffee at breakfast.

"What?" Harry asked.

They all shook their heads and stood up, going into the other room. Harry finished cleaning up and changed into something a bit more presentable than his worn pajamas.

3

"Harry, this one's for you," Ron said, passing Harry a hefty package. "All the Weasleys went in on it, just so you know."

"Thanks," Harry said ahead of time, tearing open the package. He had no idea what it was; he hadn't said he wanted anything in particular. He had been expecting (with much anticipation) the usual fare of Weasley sweaters, sweets, and other delicacies. But this definitely was not the usual fare of sweets, sweaters, and other delicacies.

He stared at a thick wooden chest, the hinges brass and the lock at the front large and ornate. Carefully, he opened it. Inside was a plethora of books and devices he had no idea how to use.

"I thought it might be useful," Mr. Weasley said. "I'm not quite sure what all of those things are, but Bresnen said it was a great help to him when he was starting out. All the books explain what each device is for." Harry put the chest on the floor and began looking through the drawers and compartments of the thing.

"That's not toys!" Teddy exclaimed, crossing his arms. "Where are Harry's toys?"

"These are my toys, Ted," Harry said.

"They don't look like toys," the boy said. He sat down on the floor and proceeded to play with a little toy dragon that walked around on its own. Andromeda was going to kill Charlie, but how could she deprive her grandson of a toy that makes him happy?

"Hermione, here's your toy," Mrs. Weasley said, handing her a thick package. She opened it with a small grin on her face. Hermione's grin exploded when she saw what it was; a new set of dragon hide gloves and a silver pocket watch.

"Thank you so much!" she said, slipping the gloves back into their box and into her bag. Immediately, she put the watch in her pocket and kept glancing fondly at it throughout the night.

"Everyone needs a good pocket watch," Percy said. "You never know what can go wrong with wrist watches, especially in the ministry. I remember this one time this poor bloke got his caught in the elevator. If he had had a pocket watch, it never would have happened."

"Charlie," Audrey said, passing the present to him.

"Now, I wonder what this could be, mum? You've outgrown giving everyone but me a sweater. Why is that?" He put on his Weasley sweater, a blue one, and put the massive box of sweets his mother had given him off to the side.

"You're the only one who only comes home twice a year," she said sternly.

"Audrey, this is for you," Ron said, checking the tag.

"Oh, wow, this is gorgeous," she said, pulling the necklace out of the box.

"It was my mother's," Mrs. Weasley said. "I thought it would look good on you." Smiling, Audrey put it on. She didn't own much jewelry, but what she did own was very suitable for her character. This necklace was no exception.

"Ginny," Ron said, carrying the box precariously through the piles of gifts, wrapping paper, and people. Harry met him half way and took the box.

It was surprisingly heavy and he became nervous. He knew Ginny had been working on improving her ability to hold heavy things, but her right hand still couldn't close all the way and he wasn't sure if she had the strength to hold the box. She reached out to take it, but he didn't let go, instead putting it in her lap. When he first refused to let go, she seemed angry, but once it was on her lap and she could feel the weight of it, she thanked him.

It was clear to Harry that she didn't particularly love the gift. It was a collector's set of quidditch balls sent to her from the Cannons.

"Ron, you idiot, you gave her the wrong gift," Bill said. Ron fumbled under the tree for a few minutes before coming up with a lumpy package.

"Hey, how come she gets a sweater?" Ron demanded, crossing his arms.

"It isn't a sweater," Mr. Weasley said.

Harry swapped out the gifts, putting her quidditch set on the floor and setting the package in front of her.

"Yes!" Her eyes lit with excitement, she pulled a fluffy red bathrobe out of the package and a pair of matching slippers. "They're so soft!" Her brothers chuckled at her, and even Harry couldn't help but grin. "Thank you so much!" She pulled off her socks, tore the tags off her slippers, and put them on.

3

Harry leaned against the door jam, watching Ginny putting dishes away. Everyone else had gone outside to watch Vicky and Teddy play in the snow. Fleur was feeding Dominique in the other room.

"You can help, you know," Ginny said. "These go in that cabinet."

Harry picked up all the cups and carefully put them where they belonged. He wasn't really sure what he was doing; no one had asked him to put away dishes here before, not that he was unwilling. He didn't even know where most of the dishes went. If necessary, he could find a cup and a bowl for breakfast. But that was about it.

"You're doing it wrong," Ginny said. She nudged him out of the way, not shying away from contact with him, and fixed all the cups so they were in the right order. "Big ones in the back, little ones in the front. Glass on the top shelf, plastic on the bottom."

"You're so picky," Harry murmured, crossing his arms. She glanced at him, one of her eyebrows raised. The expression came off as hilarious, even though Harry knew it wasn't supposed to, and he struggled to hold back his laughter. She shook her head and continued putting dishes away. She made quick work of the rest of the dishes and turned to face Harry.

"I'm done, Harry," she said seriously.

"You're done?" He said, a slight grin on his face. He was not sure whether or not this was going to end in some joke or if it was a genuine comment.

"I'm done running. I'm done standing still. I want to go forward," she said.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked.

"I…I think I'm ready to resume our relationship."

Harry stared at her, speechless. His heart soared. His mind raced. He couldn't believe it.

"Are you sure?" he asked, trying to suppress a smile.

"Yes." Ginny smiled.

Harry put his hands behind her head and gently kissed her. It was short, but wonderful. She put her own hands around his head and drew him back in for a second round.

"Err…Harry…do you know where Teddy's dragon is?" Ron asked, scratching his head. Harry pulled away from Ginny and looked at Ron, angry. Why did he have to interrupt this moment?

"No; did you check the other room?"

"I'll go check now." Ron went into the sitting room, leaving Harry and Ginny alone again.

"You're sure about this?" Harry asked. Ginny was beaming at him, her eyes alive with joy.

"Yes," she said, leaning against him. "Thank you for waiting."


	26. Chapter 26

Harry stared at his note cards, going through his speech in his mind. He looked at himself in the mirror.

"Three years ago…" Harry said, looking at himself in the mirror. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Three years ago…" He didn't like the way it sounded. It was like he was beginning a story, one with a happy ending, one that didn't leave a permanent scar on the wizarding world.

He made this speech every year. It was his honor as the Boy Who Lived, his honor as the slayer of Voldemort, his honor as the destroyer of the Horcruxes, his honor as a part of the slew of heroes from the Battle at Hogwarts. This year it seemed to sneak up on him, as if it was trying to get him by surprise. And in truth, it had succeeded. He had been so caught up with Teddy and Ginny and his latest mission with Malfoy, that he forgot about May second, about the speech and the ceremony and everything he had to do.

The past two years, it took him three weeks to prepare his speech, to get his emotions in check, to understand what he wanted to say. This year, he had two days.

Maybe he should try a different approach.

"It's difficult for me to stand here and tell you how wonderful the battle at Hogwarts was. Because it wasn't. And…Hell, I can't do this." He threw his cards on the ground and leaned back on his bed.

Images from the battle flashed before his eyes, of the towers collapsing, of Hogwarts students and alumni running through the hallways, of the frantic search for the diadem, of the deaths, the near deaths, and the terrible deaths. Of the pain. Of the confusion. Of the agony. All of it. All of it was with him still. All of it haunted him still.

When he gives his speech, no one really understands. It brought tears to his eyes just thinking about it. No one can really grasp what he feels, the guilt. The massive guilt. The horrible guilt. If he had finished Voldemort off sooner…if he had killed him in the graveyard with Cedric, or pulverized him when he had possessed Ginny, or somehow destroyed him in front of the Mirror of Erised, or stopped Pettigrew from returning to him…if he had done something instead of sitting back…if he had fulfilled his destiny sooner…

He sat up and looked in the mirror, his eyes red and puffy.

"I'm sorry," he said to himself. "I'm sorry that so many people died. I'm sorry that so much damage was inflicted to Hogwarts. I'm sorry that that is what it took to take down Voldemort. I hate it. I really do. If…if I had thought it through better…if I had…if I had been stronger…then it could have been avoided. If I had been…ah shit." He flopped back on his bed again, staring at his ceiling.

What would Remus say right now? What would Sirius say? They'd probably say something about how it wasn't his fault; about how he was young and stupid. About how he was a bloody idiot and didn't know any better…Fred would let off a swamp bomb…Why did he have to keep thinking about this?

Faintly, he wondered if there was any way he could get out of this, if there was any loophole he could jump through. He didn't want to do this again. He wasn't sure he could. Maybe they would let Mr. Weasley do it, instead. He was sure people would get tired of listening to him, the inexperienced auror. They would prefer Mr. Weasley, the seasoned adult, knowledgeable and intelligent. He would be able to string words together with more adeptness than Harry.

Ginny came into his room, silent, and sat down next to him.

He didn't want to deal with her right now. He already knew what she was going to say. He has to do it for the wizarding world, to give them hope and aspirations, and to comfort them.

Harry didn't want to comfort them.

"It wasn't your fault, you know," Ginny said softly. Harry glanced at her. Sometimes, he hated not having to express his emotions to her; she knew everything.

"No matter how many times I hear that, it still doesn't change a thing." Harry resumed looking at the ceiling. Ginny had her pity face on. She herself was remembering those who died. She was on the verge of crying.

"Maybe not for you," she replied. "But for me, I take comfort in the fact that the man I love is not responsible for the death of my brother." Her voice was forceful but tremulous. Its sound made Harry grimace. It was terrible to his ears. "You can sit here, and think that you are more responsible than you are, that you're more important than you are, and that you have more influence over a bloody wizard than Albus Dumbledore. But I can't. I look at you and the only thing I see is the idiot little boy who doesn't know how to get onto platform 9 ¾. I don't see the hero everyone else sees. I can't. I see Harry James Potter. The boy who was caught in a web bigger than he thought it was, who was hunted down by Voldemort for no good reason, who almost died…who saved me…Merlin, Harry…don't you understand? There wasn't a single thing you did to make Voldemort attack innocent people, to make him infiltrate Hogwarts and hunt you. The only thing you are guilty of is being stubborn."

"Shut up. You don't know what you're talking about."

"There's only room for one stubborn one in this relationship!" Ginny was on her feet by now, her voice cracking. "And I'm the Weasley!"

"Yelling at me isn't going to make me think any differently."

For a few moments, all Harry could hear was Mrs. Weasley doing dishes down stairs.

"I give up, Harry. You win."

Ginny left him alone.

Great. Now he had to smooth things over with Ginny in addition to figuring out what to say.

3

"I can't do it, Kingsley." Harry looked at the minister across his desk. "I'm not qualified."

Kingsley gazed at him sedately, silent.

"There's no reason why I should be speaking. Someone who had more to do with it should. Someone who actually knew what they were doing…"

"Harry, one of the reasons why you are speaking is because you were one of very few people who knew what to do – you and Ron and Hermione Weasley."

"Then why can't one of them speak?" Harry crossed his arms and stared at Kingsley. He wanted to mean that. He really did. He wanted to want Ron to speak or Hermione, but the truth was that he couldn't picture it. He knew Ron would stutter and stumble over his words, that Hermione would drop into a monotone like Professor Binns and make half the crowd fall asleep. He wanted to want it. But he didn't.

"You've known them since your first year at Hogwarts. You before anyone else know why they don't speak. You are the one Dumbledore chose. You are the one Voldemort chose. Of all the people to talk about the Battle at Hogwarts, you are the most qualified."

"I didn't even see half of it."

"It doesn't matter. What matters is that you were there. What matters is that you destroyed the Dark Lord. What matters is that the wizarding community looks to you for comfort and support. When everyone else was running around like a chicken with their heads cut off, you were pursuing the Diadem, you were working on taking down Voldemort."

"It was luck."

"It was fate."

Harry stared at Kingsley. He could hear the man's appointments talking in the waiting room.

"What should I talk about?" Harry asked, resigning himself to his responsibility.

"I can't tell you that, Harry. I don't want the ministry to get too heavily involved."

"What are you talking about?"

"Unification. I'm still trying to restore confidence in the ministry."

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" Shacklebolt called.

Luna entered the room, her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, dirt smudged on her face.

"Minister, Rolf told me to ask you if you knew where we could find some trowels."

"You would need to talk with Neville about that," Shacklebolt said, giving her a small smile. She nodded and bowed out of the room. "Strange girl…good at what she does, but strange." Harry nodded. A steady job had made her more responsible and out of the clouds, but she was still off a bit. "I'm sorry to make you leave like this, Harry. I wish I had more time, but I must be leaving. Last I heard, the department of mysteries was having a slight problem with some of the new prophecies, and I should make sure it all gets worked out before the end of the day."

"Of course." Harry stood up and left Shacklebolt's office. Watching the minister enter the elevator, Harry realized something; he hadn't gotten out of the speech. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. He had today and tomorrow, and then he had to stand in front of the entire wizarding world and talk to them.

His stomach churned. This was not going to end well.


	27. Chapter 27

Harry looked out over the field in front of Hogwarts. The sun smiled down on him, warming his back. The faces that looked back at him were not smiling. They had just read the names of those who died at the Battle at Hogwarts. It was never a joyous event.

"After three years," Harry began slowly, each word feeling like it took a life time to say, "you would think it would get easier to stand up here and talk about what had happened. But it hasn't."

He gripped the podium with his hands, his knuckles white.

"I struggle with this every year. I always worry about what I'm going to say, if I'm going to say the right thing. And I never know if I do."

He shuffled through the blank pages in front of him. Why hadn't he thought this through more?

"All I know is that after the battle…after the battle there were wounds. Many of them. Some of them were visible. Some of them were hidden. Still many of us bear those scars. I know I do."

He glanced over the crowd, all of them staring at him, even more listening over the radio. Reporters were taking down every word, to analyze later and pick it apart. He pushed it from his mind.

"Our physical wounds heal and leave behind scars. People can see them, can touch them, are reminded by them. They are real. But the emotional wounds, the mental ones, the images of towers falling and people lying prostrate on this very ground…in some ways are more real than the physical ones. Our scars are hidden by our clothes or our make-up or our medication. We can forget about them when we look in the mirror or when we go to work. We push our emotional pain out of the way, writing it off as childish or inconsequential. We don't mean to half the time, but we do."

He swallowed hard and found Ginny's face in the crowd. She smiled and nodded at him.

"And then we forget. We forget about the agony, the pain, the wounds. And it becomes as if it never happened. We forget about the sacrifice, the death, the destruction, and all we think about is how we're going to get our next paycheck."

He could see some people shift uncomfortably in their seats.

"We cannot forget. As soon as we forget, we lose something. We lose the value of lives. We lose the devastation Voldemort reaped on the wizarding world. We lose the respect we have for Hogwarts and for ourselves. It's as if it never happened, as if it was just a bad dream. When we say it is a bad dream, when we write it off as such, it happens again. It won't be Tom Marvalo Riddle. No…it'll be someone else. Someone else will rise and take his place, terrorizing us, tormenting us, and we'll ignore it and be shocked at it because it had never happened before but in a dream.

"We need to remember for the sake of our children. We need to remember for the sake of the deceased. We need to remember so that tomorrow, we'll be watching the world for signs of an upheaval and we'll stop it."

Most people were looking at him now, gazing at his face.

"I'm not saying we should let our memories dictate how we perform in daily activities. I'm not saying we should drop everything and lament all the time. I'm saying that you need to remind yourself of the sacrifice that was made for you, so that you could continue to live. Every morning I wake up and remember what my parents have done for me, what my friends have done for me, and ask myself if I'm living up that sacrifice. I ask myself if I'm letting their memory live on, or if I'm stifling it. I ask if what I'm doing brings honor to their memory."

The crowd was absolutely silent.

"If there's one thing I hope you realize today and take with you, it's that they died so you could live. I hope you bring that with you wherever you go and to whatever you do. Thank you."

Harry heard the trees rustling in the Forbidden Forest, some centaurs peering through the thick branches. He sat down, ignoring the response of the crowd. What they thought didn't matter. It really didn't. In three day's time, he would be forgotten, and what he said would be forgotten after its brief life in the papers.

3

Harry squatted in front of his parents' graves. He remembered them as he had seen them in pictures, smiling at baby Harry and each other, sitting with the order, taking their wedding vows. He remembered their images in the Mirror of Erised, in his fourth year battle against Voldemort, and in his seventh year battle against Voldemort. The ideas of his father torturing Snape still haunted him sometimes. It made him question his father's integrity. But he had been a schoolboy, and schoolboys tend to do stupid things. His mother made up for it, a kind soul to the lost Severus.

Often, he wondered how his life would have been if his parents had lived. When he was younger, he always thought it would be marvelous, as if all his problems would be solved by having his father teach him how to ride a broom and his mother chastise him for underage magic. His godfather would still be on good terms with the wizarding world and his mother would criticize the marauders whenever they started to tell Harry about their escapades at Hogwarts. He would be happy, without problems, and have the opportunity to enjoy Hogwarts.

As he got older, though, he realized his folly. It was because Voldemort came to kill him that he was destroyed for the first time. It was because of his mother's love that Voldemort was dispatched from the world for eleven years and then four more as he tried to reclaim his body. She prevented the man from killing more, from destroying more families. It sent shivers down Harry's back when he thought of a world like that, where anyone was still fair game. As much as he would love to have known his parents, to have them watch him graduate from Hogwarts and be at his wedding, he would not risk the world for their lives. He could not, in good conscious, ask for them to have not been killed knowing that hundreds, possibly thousands, would be killed in their place.

That, more than anything, made him weep. Their deaths had served a valuable purpose in the grand scheme of things, and it pained deeper than most realizations.

He put flowers on their graves and stood up.

He heard steps behind him and turned around. Ginny was standing not too far away, her eyes brimming with tears.

She had just come from Fred's grave.

"I'm going to kill George," she said, wiping away a few stray tears. She blamed him every year for her weakness. It was hard on her, and she refused to admit it. Growing up, she had said, if she had cried, all her brothers would have mocked her. She wasn't in the habit and she hated doing it. She wiped away some more tears. Harry reached out and drew her in to him. She sobbed against his chest.

"It'll be fine," Harry whispered, gently rubbing her hair. "He didn't die in vain."

"I m-miss them, Harry," she sobbed, tears running freely down her cheeks. "No-nothing I do ch-changes it."

Harry just wrapped his arms around her. There wasn't anything he could do but be with her. She would calm down eventually and resign to a state of quiet depression.

"Damn it, Harry," she said, her sobs subsiding. "I miss Fred and Collin and Remus and Tonks. And they haven't come back."

"They won't, Gin."

Ginny's arms wrapped tightly around Harry. He returned the embrace, kissing her lightly on the top of her head.

3

Ron, George, Percy, Charlie, Bill, and Mr. Weasley sat lined up at the bar, each with a shot of fire whisky in front of him. Ginny sat at a table with Audrey and Harry, drinking her own beer. Hermione, Fleur, and Angelina were off doing something else.

All at once, the Weasley men downed their fire whiskey and got some more. Harry watched as the Leaky Cauldron filled with rowdy guests, all celebrating the official death of Voldemort. Some more men joined the Weasleys at the bar.

"They're all going to be in pain tomorrow," Ginny said and finished her first pint. She tapped the rim of her mug with her wand and it refilled. Today, all the mugs were charmed to refill on demand, the pub celebrating with free refills. Harry had a mug of pumpkin juice. Someone had to be sober for when they were kicked out.

"Mmm," Audrey said, downing her own pint.

"By the looks of it, so are you," Harry said. Neither heeded him.

"So who's going to pass out first?" Ginny asked.

"Percy," Audrey replied.

"Really?"

"He's already at his limit, believe it or not."

"Well, they were swilling beer for an hour before they got this idea," Harry said.

"Who's going the longest? I really can't gauge the others well," Audrey said.

"Charlie," Ginny said firmly. She drank some more beer. "But George might give him a run for his money."

"Peter would smash all of 'em," Audrey said. She drained the rest of her pint and refilled it.

"I remember when we were in hiding," Ginny said, "and Fred and George decided to see who could down more fire whiskey. They both had a bottle and both of 'em drank the whole thing. Then both of them passed out. I think George managed to stand for a few seconds longer than Fred, but it was close."

"Peter and Andy once went at it drunk. You'd think they'd have more sense than that. I'm telling you, it was not pretty. Blood was everywhere. And who do you think had to clean it up?"

"You?"

"Yep. Always. No matter what they were fighting over, I was the one who had to clean."

"That sounds about right," Ginny murmured, refilling her mug again.

Percy turned around from the bar and vomited on the floor. Everyone who saw laughed at him. George nudged him out of his seat. He was out of the game now. Percy got himself a cup of coffee and stumbled over to where his wife sat.

"You ok?" Audrey asked, her mouth obscured by her mug.

He groaned.

"Yep, he's fine," Ginny said. "Merlin, Perce, I thought you'd learn to drink more by now. I can drink more than you."

"Shove it, Gin," he muttered, black coffee leaking from his mouth as he did so. Audrey shook her head and looked back to Ginny.

"Peter and I always fought over who could drink more. I usually won," Audrey said, finishing off another pint.

"That isn't something to brag about," Percy said, putting his head down on the table. He closed his eyes and fell asleep. Audrey patted his head and took his glasses off his face.

"I hate these things," she said, putting them on the table. "He's such a girl when it comes to getting contacts. He says they're uncomfortable. He's never even worn them."

"I'm not wearing contacts, Audrey," Percy said.

Mr. Weasley vomited at the bar. The man sitting next to him helped him to his seat next to Percy and gave him some coffee.

"There you go, Arthur," he said between guffaws. The man returned to the bar, watching the rest of the Weasleys. Bill shortly vomited out and joined his father. Harry couldn't believe how bad they were smelling.

"Is there a tub we can put them in?" Ginny asked, her speech slightly slurring. She went to tap the edge of her cup.

"I think you've had enough," Harry said, taking her mug.

"Give it back," she demanded, reaching out to take it.

"No, chill out, take this instead." He gave her the pumpkin juice. Reluctantly, she took it and began drinking.

"This is crap," she said sullenly, but continued drinking it. Audrey just grinned at her and continued her own intoxication. Ron soon joined them.

"Once they're done," Ginny said slowly. "I want to go home. I want to see who wins. But I want to go home."

"Alright, Gin," Harry said. She refilled her mug with beer. Harry shook his head, giving up. He was going to let her get sick. George stood up and puked all over the floor. Twice. Charlie stood up, leaning against the bar for support and downed one more for good measure.

"Let's go," Harry said. "You guys can sleep this off at the Burrow."


	28. Chapter 28

Harry did not get May third off. Instead, he had to report to the office. The owl he got indicated something serious. And he was glad he hadn't drunk himself silly the night before.

"What is it?" he asked Nick, sitting in the conference room with Malfoy.

"I'm sending you two on one more mission with Addie Smith and Quinn McArthur. You leave in three days. Goal is to track down and capture an escaped Dark Wizard from Voldemort's regime."

"Which one?" Harry asked.

"Rookwood."

Harry nodded. Rookwood sounded familiar…wasn't he the one that killed Fred?

"Not a word to the Weasleys about this, Potter," Malfoy said snidely. "I don't want them breathing down our necks while we try and capture a convict. If you feel like you're invested in this in more than a professional manner, I don't want you in my crew."

"You expect me to not be emotionally entangled in capturing the man who killed my friend?"

"I expect you to approach this as a professional. Even though this may be the last time I go out, I don't want it to mean that you slack off."

"I agree with Malfoy," Nick said. "If you cannot separate yourself emotionally, I don't want you there."

"That won't be a problem," Harry said.

"Good. We leave in three days," Malfoy said. He stood up and left.

"Why's he acting all weird?" Harry asked. Usually Malfoy stayed after the meeting with him to work over logistics and things like that.

"He's resigning. This is his last mission," Nick said wistfully. "It's a pity, really. He's an amazing auror."

Harry stared after Malfoy. Why would he be resigning? He was considered the best auror, on track to becoming the head of the auror department when Nick resigned. It didn't make any sense as to why he would leave all of this behind.

3

"Where's Teddy?" Harry asked, slinging his bag over his shoulder. The little boy was supposed to come and say good-bye to Harry and, like he had done since his first real mission, given him Remmy the protectorate.

"He's sick this weekend, so he's staying at his grandmother's," Mrs. Weasley said, giving him a brown paper back full of food. "Don't starve yourself. I remember last time you came back, and you ate me out of food. If that happens again, I'm flogging you."

"Don't get injured; let Malfoy go out on a high note," Mr. Weasley said. "As much as you hate him, don't ruin his record, will you?"

Harry grinned sheepishly, but committed to nothing. He wouldn't try to get injured, but this was higher than the usual mission. This was stuff they give to the experienced, scarred, seasoned aurors, not the newbies just coming into the room.

Ginny walked up to him and kissed him lightly – almost teasingly – and said, "Keep yourself safe, ok?"

"Of course," he muttered, allowing her to kiss him again. "I'll be back in a few days. See you then." He disapparated.

3

Malfoy did his usual routine. He made everyone set up, did a quick briefing, and sent out Addie and Quinn to do preliminary information gathering. Malfoy and Harry scoured Rookwood's files, figuring out how he got out, how he did it before, and his actions before the first war.

"Malfoy, why are you resigning?" Harry asked after getting through the first file.

"Different reasons," Malfoy said. This wasn't unusual. They had talked on the first day for the past few months, getting to each other and familiar with each other before the action started. "The lady wants to be married, but doesn't want me to have a dangerous job."

"So you're dumping the job?" Harry asked.

"Yep. I can get a new one."

Harry just stared at Malfoy. He had known Malfoy had changed since Hogwarts…he just hadn't realized how much…where was the selfish little Slytherin Harry knew and hated?

"This lady must be special, huh?"

"You have no idea." Malfoy passed him another file.

"I don't know what I'd do if Ginny told me she'd dump me if I left this job," Harry said, filtering through the pages.

"Ginny's different than Astoria. She understands the value in dangerous things. Astoria only sees the danger in dangerous things. It's one of her biggest flaws, really. She's going to be a mess when we have boys." Harry chuckled and scanned the pages.

According to the data they already had, they were in the right place. This is where he had been stationed before the first war. This is where he had grown up, where he had had his children, and where he knew.

"Ok, Malfoy," Quinn said after she had apparated. "They say he's here. I don't know where. We're in the right place."

"I can feel him," Addie said, closing her eyes. Malfoy nodded and looked at

Harry. Harry instantly knew what he wanted. He took off his glasses and charmed them

"What is his wand?"

"Twelve inch Birch unicorn hair."

"Ok. I'll be back."


	29. Chapter 29

The goal was the figure out where, exactly Rockwood was hiding. The result, of course, was a pair of sore feet, an angry Malfoy, and Harry's invisibility cloak in Malfoy's hands.

"I can't believe you'd be so incompetent," Malfoy threatened, taking the cloak and wrapping it around his shoulders. He put on a pair of enchanted spectacle frames, his face disappearing behind the cloak.

"Malfoy, I told you. I looked everywhere."

"Well, you've never exactly known where the dark wizards hang out, do you?"

"And you do?"

"Are you forgetting who I am?"

Harry watched as the door opened and slammed closed. Harry glanced at the looking glass. He could see Malfoy running through the town, heading straight for the center. He peeled back a storm drain and jumped into its depths. Harry watched, tense, as he slipped through the pipes. Finally, he found the trail, marked it with a bit of his own magic, and returned to the head quarters.

"Now its your turn," Malfoy snapped, throwing the cloak on the floor. "Tomorrow. Don't touch it. I want to look some stuff up."

Harry reclined on his sleeping bag, staring at the ceiling. He couldn't believe Malfoy found it. Of all the things he could do…of all the things he could say…of all the things he chose to do, showing Harry up at his job was the worst, in Harry's humble opinion.

"Alright, Potter, I'm going to give you a tip here," Malfoy said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.

"Really? Is it going to be something along the lines of 'don't put your finger in a muggle electrical socket'?" Harry asked bitterly.

"No, idiot. Always look in the lowest part of the city, town, or whatever. Sewers? Check 'em. Basements? Check 'em. First floors of houses? Check 'em. Check for false floors, moving bookcases, and disguised doors. Most of those'll be distinguishable by the charm, though. Then go to the highest points. Top floors. Rooftops. Everything."

Harry stared at Malfoy, silent. That was actually viable advice. No one had ever told him that before. Bresnen had just sent him off on his own, let him do his own thing, and hoped for the best.

"And give your subordinates specific tasks. Like 'track down Rookwood's wand type' or 'go pee in the toilet that's downstairs on the right'. Because you know they're going to pee in the toilet on the left, which is broken, and then coming running to you when a rat bit their ass." Malfoy turned back to his files.

Had he just cracked a joke? Harry hadn't seen this side of Malfoy before, even after working with him for awhile.

"Rookwood's leaving!" Addie shouted, crashing into the room.

"What?" Malfoy spun around in his chair and stared at her in the face.

"He's leaving…going north to a more reclusive manor. It's got a secret keeper. If we don't get him now…"

"Where did you hear this?"

"Some bloke named Barnabus."

"That would be Darner. Ok, Potter, put on your cloak and track down Rookwood. Addie, go back out and keep Barnabus from going back to his house no matter what. He'd be the man orchestrating this whole thing. See if you can't arrest him for something and bring him back to the ministry. Where's Quinn?"

Harry looked around, expecting her to be sitting in a corner. He hadn't seen Quinn all day.

"Dunno," Harry said.

"Don't worry about it," Malfoy said sharply. "Go track him down, detain him, and bring him back to the ministry. Do not openly engage him. He knows more curses and hexes than you know what to do with. Got it, Potter?"

"Yes," Harry said, flicking his wand at his glasses. He wrapped his cloak around his shoulders and skidded down the stairs.

3

The trail Malfoy marked led him to some kind of basement complex.

'Rookwood's trail intertwined with others, some darker some lighter. At one point, three wands with the same core lingered at the same place. It took Harry three minutes to figure out Rookwood went into the room to the left.

The room was, in reality, rather abandoned. Or, at least, it seemed to be so.

Harry did a quick check for traps and then went farther into the dark room.

"Who is it?" a hoarse voice said.

Harry didn't move.

"Come now, Darner, I know it's you. You don't need to hide."

Harry took out his wand.

"What? Are you afraid of little old Rookwood?"

Harry's hand tightened on his wand. Rookwood was here. The man who killed Fred was here. Anger swelled within his breast. He should be in Azkaban right now, rotting in unhappiness.

"Mmm…you aren't Darner, then? Maybe Vrable?"

Harry moved to the left a little, out of the way of the door.

"You don't smell like Vrable, though."

He heard shuffling somewhere in the darkness. He wished he could light the place up, to figure out what was exactly going on. But he couldn't. If he was to light up the room, his presence would be known and Rookwood would undeniably kill him.

"Lumos," Rookwood hoarsely said. Light permeated the room. Rookwood was illuminated, his gruesome appearance sending shivers down Harry's back. His face was wrinkled, scarred, twisted. His hair thinning. He held his wand in front of him, the magic accumulating at its tip. He was getting ready to cast another spell.

"Ah…I see you now…you think you can hide?"

Harry quickly cast a shielding spell. Rookwood couldn't see him…but just in case…he stayed still and didn't breathe. His spell went to the right. Harry quickly sent one his way. He blocked it and sent one back. The shield Harry had establish shattered.

Some of the spell became lodged in his leg. It felt as if someone was sawing it in half. His leg gave way beneath him, dropping him to his knees. He could feel it seeping into his blood, affecting other parts of his body. It completely ravaged his leg, making it feel as if it was burning. It slipped up into his abdomen, clutching at his stomach and heart. Harry curled up on floor, gripping himself painfully.

There was a crack.

Malfoy apparated in front of him, quickly fought with Rookwood, and made the dark wizard submit. Quinn soon appeared and wrapped her arms around Rookwood to disapparate.

Harry's vision blurred. His head throbbed, as if his brain was boiling. His ears felt as if they were bleeding. Malfoy bent over him.

"Harry, are you ok?"

Harry stared at him, silent. He couldn't speak. He couldn't remember how.

"Can you see me? Harry? Harry?" Malfoy put his arms firmly on Harry's shoulders.

Harry's vision gave out.


	30. Chapter 30

Someone pressed a cup of potion to his lips. Harry let the liquid fall down his throat. He couldn't move. It hurt to just breathe. He had no idea what Rookwood had done to him, but whatever it was, it wasn't pleasant. He didn't know who offered him potion. He didn't know who was in the room.

"Where's Ginny?" He asked, struggling to speak.

"Just relax, Harry," the healer said, putting the cup back to his lips.

"Where is she?" He wanted to see her, to apologize, to beg for her forgiveness.

"She's outside."

"Can she come in?"

"No, Harry, you need to sleep."

He turned his head towards the door. The blinds shielded the window from his view. Ginny was out there, probably worrying about him.

A sharp pain shot through his body. He groaned.

"You need to sleep," the healer said, putting a wet cloth on his head. It felt good, comforting even.

"I want to see Ginny."

"I understand, Harry, but you need to worry about yourself. Once you heal, you can see Ginny."

"I want to see Ginny now." His voice was weak and strained. His eyes were heavy. He let them fall. He reiterated the phrase. The healer made him finish the potion and left him alone.

He fell asleep.

3

Malfoy stood over him. It was disconcerting to Harry that the first person he recognized was Malfoy. In part because he still considered him an enemy, in part because he wanted to see Ginny.

"Well, Potter," Malfoy said, sitting down. "I'm not going to lie. I'm glad you're conscious. Weasley looks like she hasn't slept in weeks."

"She's here?" Harry looked around, eager. His body restricted his movement.

"She can't see you; you're still considered unstable."

"Unstable?"

"You need constant care."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"I'm your chief; I have privileges."

"Ginny's my girlfriend, why can't I see her?"

"She's not your wife."

"What?"

"You aren't married, so with your delicate situation, you can't see each other until you're stable."

"There's nothing wrong with me; I'm just a little sore."

"You got hit with a vicious little hex, Harry," Malfoy said morosely. "It's been almost two weeks since the mission. You've been in and out, but mostly out. It was the kind of thing that kills you if you get hit full on. You are the luckiest man I know."

"Malfoy…"

"Harry, just shut up for a minute. I need to apologize."

"For what?"

"Trusting you to do a job I knew you would be unable to do."

"This wasn't your fault."

"No? Are you telling me you could have taken down Weasley's murderer without a second thought?" Malfoy stared at Harry, his silver eyes piercing through his flesh.

Harry stared at him. He couldn't think straight, the constant pain coursing through his body a distraction.

"That's the problem. That is my fault. If I had been more assertive, more conscientious, then you wouldn't have played the fool.."

"What? You don't trust me to make decisions on my own? I was perfectly capable of making that call."

"Look where it landed you. As chief, my responsibility is preserving my crew. I'm sorry I didn't pull you earlier. Whether you see it as my fault or not is irrelevant – it is what it is."

Harry watched Malfoy leave the room, the door temporarily opening and revealing Ginny. The door closed before Harry could say anything to her. Her visage was not good. She looked sick. She looked tired. She looked tortured. Why wouldn't they just let him talk to her? Surely, it wouldn't do anything damaging to his health.

The door opened again and a healer came in. The woman put a cup of potion to Harry's lips. It tasted like pepper.

"I need to change your bandages," she said.

"My bandages?" Harry looked at her inquisitorially. He didn't know he was sporting any bandages.

The healer flicked back his blankets. Where he had been hit with Rookwood's magic was bound with thick white bandages. The healer pealed them off and revealed a nasty wound, a hole in his leg, radiating with unseen magic. She slathered a salve on it. It stung worse than anything he had ever felt before, ten times worse than when the school nurse poured hydrogen peroxide on his cuts back in grade school. Adeptly, the healer rebound his leg.

"Get some sleep. I'm glad you're conscious, but you need your strength to fully heal."


	31. Chapter 31

Ginny was crying when she came in to see him. He stood up, struggling against the wave of pain jolting up and down his legs, and wrapped his arms around her, ignoring the waves seizing his arms.

"I'm never going to forgive you, Harry," she said, rubbing her face on his hospital gown.

"It's fine. I'm fine," Harry said, holding her. "Nothing happened."

"What do you mean nothing happened?" she said. Her face was red, her ears red, her eyes flaming. "You've been sitting on that bed for three weeks, and now you can barely walk!"

Harry sighed and looked at her. He hated when she was right.

"Come on, sit down. Where are your clothes?" She demanded.

"Over there." Harry sat down, grimacing. He couldn't believe how much pain he was still in. And he hadn't even been hit with the whole thing. He watched as Ginny rummaged through a bag on the floor. She really didn't look well, as if she hadn't slept all month. She had really worried about him.

"Here's your clothes," Ginny said, throwing his pants and shirt at him. Harry stared at the articles, preparing himself. It was going to be painful. He decided to do it as quickly as possible.

He ripped off his gown and slid his shirt over his head. Holding back a whimper, he stood up and stepped into his pants. He straightened and buttoned his pants. Every movement sent a shock of pain through his body.

He stood up, breathing heavy, and stared forward.

"Oh, Harry," Ginny said softly. He looked over at her. She was almost crying again.

"Come on, Gin. Don't cry. I'm fine."

"I…I just hate to see you like this."

"I'll recover. It's temporary."

Ginny slung his heavy bag over her shoulder, slouching under the weight, and walked towards him.

"You're going to have lasting effects, you know," she said.

"Yeah?" He tried to take the bag from her, but found it too heavy. It made his arm feel like it snapped, and he dropped the bag.

"You'll always have some pain. Always."

"And you know this how?"

Ginny looked up at him. Harry was hurt by the pain reflected in her eyes.

"I had a long talk with Malfoy," Ginny said softly.

"What about?" Harry forced himself to grin. He didn't like the idea of Malfoy talking with his girl.

"A lot of things." She picked up the bag again. "His fiancée, his marriage, how he's changed, the ministry, you, your job – things that are inconsequential."

"Doesn't sound inconsequential."

"He wants to know if you're interested in attending his wedding."

"What?"

"I'm not kidding. He asked me that. I didn't know what to say. He said he'd send an invitation."

"I have no idea, then," Harry muttered, following after Ginny.

"Me neither. Let's just go back to the Burrow. I hear mum's making you a meal to rival Christmas."

3

Harry doubled over in pain, breath escaping him.

"Damn it, Charlie," Ron said. "You weren't supposed to hit him that hard."

"I didn't hit him hard," Charlie replied.

"Sit down, Harry," Bill said, pushing him into a chair.

"What was that for?" Harry demanded, his breathing shallow.

"You hurt Gin, we hurt you; it's been our policy for years," George said casually.

"You ever wonder why Micheal never even talked to her after their relationship ended? It had nothing to do with him not being interested. We made him not interested," Ron said with a bit of vindictiveness in his tone.

"So now you're making me uninterested?"

"No, we're making you pay for making her worry so damn much," George said angrily. "Mum was more of a wreck over her than over you!"

"She wouldn't eat."

"She wouldn't sleep."

"And forget about doing anything in her free time but pace in front of your door."

"So I didn't pay enough by being in perpetual pain for three weeks?"

"Of course not," George said.

"You guys are cruel."

"Either find a way to ensure Ginny's happiness, or don't hurt her," Charlie said.

"You guys like this, don't you?"

"Hey, we're just being big brothers, what do you want?" Bill said.

"So you want me to quit my job? I'm not doing it."

"Did we say that? No…I don't believe we did," Ron said.

"What ever. You guys are impossible."

"We're just fulfilling our job description," Charlie said.

"You know, it really would have been better had Percy been here," Bill said wistfully. "More complete, you know?"

"He refuses to be a part of this stuff," Charlie said. "Not that I blame him. It's reminiscent of illegality."

"Come on, I hear mum's cooking a good dinner," Bill said. The Weasley brothers left Harry sitting in his room, his body aching.


	32. Chapter 32

Harry kept looking at Ginny, faintly wondering if she really had been as worried as everyone said she had been. She didn't seem to be too torn up anymore. Although, when he first came back, she had been pretty bad. It wasn't until recently the bags under eyes disappeared and she started eating with her usual appetite.

"I'm glad you finally returned," Mrs. Weasley said. "I was getting very worried about Ginny, here." Ginny blushed a deep red. Harry watched her, grinning. "She wouldn't eat a thing I made for her."

"Mum," Ginny said sharply, silencing her.

"Oh, come on Gin," Ron teased. "You know you're stomach was in knots the entire time Harry was at St. Mungo's."

Her face turned a deeper shade of red. She crossed her arms and glared at Ron. Harry smiled at her, admiring her self control. He could tell she wanted to throttle him, to put him in his place, but also knew she would hurt herself in the process.

"It isn't my fault they wouldn't let anyone but Malfoy in to see him," Ginny muttered. "The only thing I ever got for validation were the words of a Malfoy and I'll be damned if I ever take the word of a Slytherin over my own eyes."

"No one's faulting you for it. It's just an observation," Ron said, sitting back in his chair.

"Sure you aren't," Ginny muttered.

3

Harry sat in the kitchen, watching Ginny put away dishes. The healers had told her not to wear a back brace any more, and that she had enough strength to go without it. Every time she reached to put something in the cabinet, her shirt crept up her abdomen, revealing her skin. Harry couldn't help but stare. He wanted more than anything to lay her down on a bed, to make her his own. But he knew he couldn't. They had agreed when they first started dating back in his sixth year that they would refrain from sex until marriage. Several times, Harry had tried to convince Ginny to break it, but each time she refused, demanding that they have higher standards than Ron and Hermione.

Every time he heard that, it made him laugh, really. The idea of Ron and Hermione having any kind of standards of modesty in their relationship was really a joke. Harry remembered late in sixth year, he walked in on both of them in a closet, both half naked. He couldn't remember what he was looking for, but he hadn't forgotten the look on Hermione's face as she groped for her skirt and Ron's as he buttoned his pants. It was one of those scenes that don't leave you.

"Harry…what happened?" Ginny asked, leaning against the counter.

"What?" He snapped out of his reverie and looked at her. Clumps of hair were freeing themselves from the constraints of her ponytail.

"Why did you get hit with the curse?"

Harry looked at her, silent.

"I've…I've never known you to be out-dueled," she said.

"I set up a shield, but Rookwood was too powerful and overwhelmed it. I only got some of the spell," he said.

Ginny looked at him, silent. She turned back to the dishes. She moved slowly, as if she was contemplating something.

"If this ever happens again," she said, her back still towards him, "I…I want to be able to see you. I don't think I could do it again without seeing you, no matter what state you're in. If…if you die…and they won't let me see you…"

Her voice trembled.

"It won't happen again," he said firmly.

"You can't promise that."

She kept her back towards him.

"What do you want me to say? That I'll switch jobs like Malfoy? I won't do it. If you want me, you need to take my job, too."

If she expected him to drop everything for her, she was wrong. He wasn't going to do it. She knew it, too. They'd had this conversation when he first entered training. Unlike Malfoy, he wasn't a pushover.

"I love that you're an auror, Harry," she said. "I respect that about you. I would never ask you to give that up."

"Then what are you asking?" Sometimes, he hated the fact she was a woman.

"I just…never mind." She put the glass in the cabinet.

"Ginny, what is it? You can't just stop talking like that."

"No…you wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

Ginny turned around and stared at Harry. Her eyes drilled a hole through him.

"I think we should…I want to be here for you. Always. And I want you to know it, and I want the world to know it. I…I want to…I want to give you children and…and…I don't know, Harry. I just don't want you to go on a mission and die without me seeing you first. You could have died this last mission and I would never have gotten to say goodbye. I wouldn't have had anything to remember you by." She wrapped her arms around herself.

"You want to get married?" he asked cautiously.

Ginny nodded.

Harry stared at her and thought. His stomach churned. Fear gripped his heart. Marriage? Wasn't Ginny too young? He stared at her, a puzzled look on his face. Was there anyone else he could imagine spending the rest of his life with? The rest of his life was a long time. Could he spend it with the fiery Weasley woman? His heart threatened to jump from his chest.

Ginny slowly turned back to the dishes, coming to the realization that Harry was not going to give her an answer, and made quick work of the rest of the dishes. She retired to her room, leaving Harry in the kitchen.

He just didn't know.


	33. Chapter 33

"What do you think, Ron?" Harry asked, reclined on his friend's couch.

"Hell, I have no idea. Hermione! What do you think?"

"She's scared? I really don't know. I mean, if it's an age thing, most Weasleys marry young. She's one of two Weasleys who aren't married, the other being Charlie, but he doesn't seem to have any intentions of marrying."

"All he cares about are his dragons," Ron said.

"And, Harry, you have to admit your job is dangerous. You aren't playing around with flubberworms. You can die at any time. She's worried about you. I mean…I don't know."

"I just don't want it to be a fear-driven decision," Harry said. "I don't want her regretting the decision in three years."

"Do you think she'll regret it in three years?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know."

"What do you think, Harry? You can read people better than you think. In three years, do you see yourselves happily married?"

"Of course I do."

"Do you think you've had enough time outside of marriage to fortify your relationship?"

"We've known each other since I was a first-year," Harry said tartly.

"That means nothing."

"Yes, I do," Harry said.

"Ask dad and make it official," Ron said. "Now sit up; the game's coming on."

3

Mr. Weasley quickly gave his consent. Honestly, Harry expected at least a little friction. There had been none. He went out that night and got a simple ring he thought would suit Ginny well. He woke up early and spent three hours trying to make edible eggs and perfectly done toast.

"What are you doing, Harry?" Ron asked, coming into the Burrow. He brought with him tables for the annual Weasley reunion.

"Trying to make breakfast for Ginny," Harry said, dumping another piece of toast in the trash.

"Why?"

"I'm going to propose to her. Or, at least, I was going to. The plan was to make her breakfast in bed and do it then. But I can't get the toast right."

"Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but Gin's already awake," Ron said.

"What?" Harry spun around. Sure enough, Ginny was in the dining room, sipping a cup of steaming tea.

"Hey, let me see the ring."

"What?"

"The ring - let me see it."

"No, she's right there."

"She won't see."

"Hey, Harry, are there any pop tarts in the cabinet?" Ginny asked.

Harry flung open the cabinet. "No, sorry!"

"Ok, thanks."

3

"So when are you going to do it?" Hermione asked.

"I'm going to kill Ron," Harry said, flicking his wand at the tables to put them in one long line.

"Oh, come on, you can't kill him. I think it's good that you didn't feed her eggs, though. Knowing your cooking, she would die."

"You're one to talk."

"Hey, look, at least I tried."

"Well, I don't know when I'm going to do it."

"I think tonight would be a good time."

"Yeah."

"Have you given any thought to where you want to live?"

"What?"

"After you're married."

"Oh, well…I was thinking about rebuilding my parents' house in Godric's Hollow."

"Make sure Ginny agrees with you on this."

"Of course; I don't think she'd have too much of a problem with it, though."

"Company's here!" Mrs. Weasley shouted across the field. Every watched the Delacours, Charlie, Bill, Fleur, Vicky, and Dominique come into the yard. Ginny ran up to Charlie again, her hair streaming behind her. Harry smiled at her, his adoration for her increasing by the second. He couldn't wait to see what she did when he proposed.

But at the same time, he was nervous. She hadn't said a word about it since their conversation the other day. He hoped she hadn't changed her mind about it. That would be…horrible.

3

Ginny sat in front of the fire, the flames dancing on her hair. She held Dominique with care, as if he was worth more than anything in the world. Harry got the intense idea that she would make an impeccable mother. He wanted to get down on one knee right then, in front of everyone, and ask her.

"So what's the ring look like?" Ron whispered in his ear.

"Ron, shut up," Harry said. He wanted to push him in the fire, to completely incinerate him.

"Just do it, and I'll stop."

"You know what?"

"What?"

"Maybe I will."

"Then do it."

Harry glanced at Ginny nervously, his jaw tight. There was no point in waiting. He stood up and walked over to her, each step ostensibly lasting forever. He knelt down by Ginny and pulled the ring out of his pocket. He could feel everyone watching him but Ginny, who was too preoccupied with Dominique to notice him.

"Ginny," Hermione whispered in her ear, scooping Dominique from her.

"What? Hey, why'd you do that?" Ginny demanded.

"I think Harry has something to ask you."

Flustered, she turned and saw Harry next to her on the ground.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley, will you marry me?"

Silence.

She stared at the ring wordlessly, a confused look on her face.

Shit.

Harry felt like he was having a heart attack.

"Please say something," he whispered.

Ginny looked at him, her eyes focusing.

"Yes. Yes. Of course I will."

Harry bowed his head, all the tension released, and put the ring on her finger.

333

A/N: Thank you for reading, and I really appreciate all your reviews and criticism. I hope you enjoyed it! D


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